


Broken Wings and Black Waves

by Serendivinity



Category: Black Sails
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, Reader Insert, Sexual Situations, Swearing, mature content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:37:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serendivinity/pseuds/Serendivinity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haunted by the conflicts of the past, two souls find a way to hate the world.</p><p>[ReaderxFlint]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning of the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're not a fan of metal I still implore you to listen to the song Unforgiven III by Metallica, and if you have, it is a song I'm going to regularly take lyrics from to describe Flint and the Reader's pain.  
> I was inspired by the story of Mary Read.  
> I will asterisk all the nautical terms and place them in a footnote at the end for you to understand, I have the fortune of being a Sailor so most of them I know and the terms of expression for a ship.

The ship crested the ominous wave, the ocean swelling with the howling storm; the wood creaked and cracked, the sails soaked from the ocean spray.

“She’ll hold!” You asserted.

“Captain, there’s no end to this god forsaken storm!” His voice bellowed over the harsh winds.

“Have patience, Daniel.” Your eyes scanned the horizon, there was an end… You pointed to the changing shade of the clouds from deep black to a soft grey. Your eyes scanned the relief that washed over his face for a second. He was a young lad, ten years your junior, but he was clever. He could scheme wickedly, you saw great potential in him as a sailor and a pirate.

“Swell incoming! Hold tight men!” The ship began to rise with the height of the sea, before dropping largely as the swell passed, leaving the Golden Stag to face the aftermath wave behind the swell.

A cry came from the fore of the ship exposed to a freak wave. Water claimed the bow of the ship, spreading aft and weighing her down. Two men were washed over the starboard* side.

“She can’t take any more of this!” Daniel shouted. You grabbed his collar, his defiance and attitude was becoming rather tiresome.

“You mean to test my leadership, here, now?” You released him with force, shoving him backwards.

“Lower the drogue* and lie ahull!* Let the storm pass us!” The men obeyed your command. A lot of them knew that you had navigated storms before. This was Daniel’s first experience sailing through the tail end of a hurricane.

Two hours passed and the seas calmed significantly. The air became thinner, the rain had subsided.

“Captain… I… I’m sorry, I let my senses go with the seas I think.” Fear flashed in his eyes. “I wasn’t challen-“

You cut him off. “Daniel, when I chose you to be my Quartermaster, I chose you for the reason that you had a calm and rational mind, you’re a good sailor and a loyal follower, but if you ever question my authority or my skills navigating these seas, I will have you thrown to the fucking depths of Davey Jones, do you understand me?”

“Yes…” He said wearily.

“Good. Now that we’ve cleared that up, have the men raise the drogue and let’s get underway; won’t take long for the sails to dry off now the rain has dissipated.”

“Aye Captain.” He replied, consequently he began to bark orders at the men as you retired to your quarters below deck.

It was dark and solitary, just how you preferred to spend your days; where the weight of the world came crashing down heavily on your shoulders, a place where you didn’t have to betray yourself in front of your crew. You were haunted.

Hours passed, it could have been days for all you knew, locked inside the depths of your mind, but there came a short, sharp knock on the door.

“Go away.” You retorted. The door clicked and the handle turned. You groaned.

“What do you want, Cillian?”

“Forgive me for my intrusion captain, but Nassau is in sight.”

“Fantastic, just make sure you and Daniel don’t crash my ship. Now as I said before… Go away.” You let out a heavy sigh as the door shut, leaving you alone once more… Until you heard the hinges creak. A bottle flew through the air, shattering against the wood. A yelp sounded from behind the door and Cillian knew you weren’t playing this time.

Sleep overcame you in a matter of minutes. You woke to the sun glaring through the windows behind you, the sound of Seagulls cawing, it turned your stomach, such an ugly sound.

Your mind was absent, you were functioning on automatic as you rose to your feet, surfacing from your quarters to the deck above; your crew was heavy at work fastening the ropes as the ship came alongside the docks.

They lowered the gangway* for the ship’s company to cross onto the jetty.

Nassau, the empire of thieves, whores and crooked men. Pirate’s heaven.

“Don’t get too loaded to the gunwales* men, keep your wits about you in this place.” You knew that when it came to any form of control, you could keep your men in check, but when ale and rum were within their grasp, there was no command to be had.

You had matters to attend to before you would tend to the wanting of rum.

You ventured through the streets; the reek of men’s ‘freedom’ was evident, pungent smells of piss, ale and sex wafted through the air.

“Captain _____, please, come in. I’ve been expecting you.” She was very formal, you were surprised at first to discover that the person who held the reigns over Nassau was a woman, you admired her for that. Women were certainly a breed to be feared. But this empire was certainly more complex than the running of a medium sized crew on a large man-o-war vessel. “I am to yet to understand what brings you here, but from your letter it sounded important.” She poured a drink for herself and then leaned over the table to pour you one. You placed your hand firmly over your cup, giving her an expression void of anything. You studied her. She was a business woman, a politician of sorts who governed by fear through control of her empire. She was the figure at the top of a pedestal, but all foundations can crumble and fall…

“No thank you, I like to keep my mind clear when I attend to business, but if this goes south, then please proceed to pass me the entire bottle.” She smiled at your remark.

“Finally, someone in this place who can share in my desire to do business; now, I will offer you the same for all new traders in Nassau, I receive a large profit from your prizes until you begin to establish a good return. I understand that establishing a”

“Sorry, I don’t think I made myself clear on my letters Miss Guthrie, or I didn’t sign them with my surname.” You grinned. She seemed intrigued. “I’m Captain _F/N_ _L/N_.”

“Shit.” She replied, catching you off guard. “Well this changes things.” She sipped from her cup. “Right. I assume you already have a score in your cargo hold?” She raised an eyebrow and you nodded. “Why have you sailed from Tortuga to Nassau?”

“It seems my business there has a fair few game hunters rattled enough to start murdering my crew to hinder me. I figured I wanted a fresh start in a better establishment. That place has become rather desperate as of recently. A new captain under the name Blackbeard has them in a bit of a dictatorship.”

“As long as you don’t bring that trouble to our waters then you can set up here. I’ve heard a lot about you, I just figured you would… well, I’m shocked that you’re a woman.”

“I’m used to it Miss Guthrie. I’m not offended by such presumptions anymore. I too made the same assumption of you before I learned of the woman who leads with an iron grip.”

“Indeed. Well, let us figure out a more reasonable term of affairs.”

You both discussed the finer statistics of trade and profits, sharing a few jokes here and there. You decided that this place would definitely be a suitable new home; your crew could sigh in relief and begin to live again, not fearing that their throats would be cut in their sleep; at least, for now. A pirate’s life wasn’t certain in safety.

There came a sharp knock, almost a pound on the door. Eleanor’s face dropped into a serious frown as the door opened.

He stepped through the door, a long black coat, finely made to signify his importance; his eyes a piercing blue that shamed the waters of even the finest seas. His beard was the colour of a dark flame, his hair slicked back into a ponytail, a fierce look set upon his features. He seemed almost… familiar in many ways. By his appearance you recalled the tales told to you by sailors of a man who could kill by the look in his eyes. Captain Flint.

“May I speak with you?” He looked right through you. Your anger boiled slowly.

“We’re in the middle of a meeting.” You interjected rudely.

“Excuse me, do you know to whom you are addressing?” He replied coldly.

“You’re excused, Captain Flint. I know exactly who it is you are. Do you know whom you are addressing?” You cocked an eyebrow smugly at him.

“I don’t care. This is urgent business.”

“Captain Flint. This is Captain L/N.”

“Captain Who?” He said without a trace of anything in his voice. Eleanor cleared her throat.

“I suggest you come back in an hour,” she directed to Flint. If it weren’t for his ignorance you would have felt a small sense of triumph, but a feeling of disappointment washed over you. Maybe you weren’t as important as you thought… Just important enough to wrangle a better deal on trading profits.

He slammed the door on the way out.

“Arsehole.” You muttered.

“Quite.” Eleanor agreed. “But he is my best Captain by far; unfortunately he seems to forget sometimes that I am the head of this city.”

“Hasn’t heard of me, that’s bollocks. I don’t Captain a man-o-war vessel for nothing.” You commented more so to yourself than anyone else. He had to of heard of you, right? You boarded a wan-o-war vessel with 5 fearless crew and beat the Spanish back into submission in the cargo hold where you snuffed them out with smoke, then went on to score prizes beyond any pirate’s yield in Tortuga. Until Blackbeard came along…

“I don’t think Captain Flint has heard of anyone besides himself. He and Captain Vane don’t get along very well. He’s my second most profitable Captain on the island.”

“Ah, another name that sailed to Tortuga. Brutish fellow from what I hear.”

“He can be if you cross him. He and Flint give me no end of trouble…” She sighed and downed the rest of the alcohol swilling around in her cup.

You finished up business and conversation, shook her hand and emerged from her study, passing a certain brooding pirate. The corner of his mouth twitched into an unpleasant snarl. You leered back in his direction.

“Who pissed in your rum?” You cracked at his disregard towards you.

“Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but know your place,” He came dangerously close to you, absentmindedly you placed a hand on the hilt of your sword. “But if you need teaching the hierarchy around here I’ll be more than happy to show you; just because Miss Guthrie needs all the trade she can get don’t start thinking you’re actually important on this island…” You began drawing your sword. His hand grasped yours firmly and began to crush… “Are you sure you want to go down that road?”

You sized him, but there was definitely a questionable gap between skill. The way his shoulders were set his frame and the death that surrounded his aura… You could see why this man was so feared even in whispers.

His face, being so close there was no mistaking it. You had seen this man’s face before… In a different life, one that was built on oppressive subjects of a mad king and a broken kingdom.

His grip was still crushing your hand, but you weren’t focusing on that pain. You couldn’t help it, your mouth spoke without permission from your mind.

“I know your face… The portrait…” He let go of your hand, the anger on his face vanished for a moment before it back with a vengeance.

“What do you mean?” He shoved you, you took the opportunity to strike at his chest with the hilt of your sword, knocking the wind out of him momentarily.

“What the fuck is going on here? Can you refrain from trying to kill every fucking Captain that comes to this island?” Eleanor barked from the door of her study. You both straightened up like naughty children.

“Well then I suggest you put a leash on the ones that can’t be controlled.” Flint groaned.

“I’m not finished here.” You looked at him, your uninjured hand caressing your crushed one.

“No.” He agreed.

“Enough. Both of you are done fighting in my hallways and on my island for that matter.” You would have laughed at her had she not controlled everything, now extending to your purse. A child telling you what t do was preposterous

She turned her back and stormed off back into the study.

“What did you mean the portrait?” He whispered angrily.

You smirked at him and proceeded to walk away. He pursued you, just as you expected.

You walked through the streets, pretending to ignore the angry Captain hot on your trail. Eventually he stopped stalking you and returned to whatever business he had with Eleanor and you made haste for the Golden Stag.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Drogue - A cone that is attached to the stern f a ship to slow it down in a storm.  
> *Lie ahull - Downing all sails and battening the hatches in a storm to allow the ship to ride it out.  
> *Port - Left side.  
> *Starboard - Right side.  
> *Bow or Frd - The front of the ship.  
> *Stern or Aft - The back of the ship.  
> *Gangway - A plank of wood that reaches from the ship to the dock or jetty.  
> *Loaded on the Gunwales - Drunk,


	2. Honour Among Thieves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if there any typos in here, this was done on my iPad.   
> If you're confused by any terms, just ask.   
> I'm not sure how long this story will be, my guess is around 8 - 10 Chapters depending on how much I love writing this story. It takes place before season one and will probably lead into the main plot in the series.   
> A word of warning, don't get too attached to any of my OCs. *Sobs quietly in a corner*

_How could he know this new dawn's light_  
Would change his life forever?  
Set sail to sea but pulled off course  
By the light of golden treasure

_  
**-Unforgiven III by Metallica** _

 

_1705 The halls were busy, officers freshly powdered and adorned with oddly shaped wigs. Fabrics of bright blues and gold were clad on mostly everyone in the hall. It was the day of your passing out ceremony from your officer training. Second Leftenant* L/N. Your ceremonial sword rested nicely against your uniform. The binding around our chest felt tight and began to present an uncomfortable itching sensation. You frowned, studying the walls of the college closely. Paintings adorned the walls, morals and paintings of budding officers. One in particular grabbed your interest, he was a fair looking man, he wasn’t old or portly like the rest of them; he had a charming quality about the portrait, although he who painted it may have added his own artistic license._

_The overseeing officers arrived at the ceremony. You spied a look at them over the balcony you were stood on. Most of them were fat and pompous. Greedy, rich bastards. In less than two hours you could laugh at all of them. A woman impersonating a man who rose through the ranks in the Navy! Most women from your background marry a tradesman and struggle to survive. That’s not how you intended to live. Your ambition drove you to the brink of insanity._

**Present:**

The sound of the calm waves washed over your senses, easing you to a lull. You looked over the wooden rails of the Golden Stag onto the bay of Nassau. This place it was as close to freedom as any place you had sailed. For now, this would make a suitable refuge.

“Is something the matter Captain?”

“Cillian,” you breathed, he had surprised you greatly. You expected everyone to be down at the whore house getting their fair share and fill of ale. “No, just taking in the scenery. Why aren’t you in the tavern with everyone else?”

“I didn’t fancy it. I was busy going over the books.”

“You’ll make a fine Captain one day Cillian. I can always rely on you to do your job and obey orders. But I can see that fierce desire I had once. You’re destined for more.” You patted him on the shoulder and made your way to the doors leading to your quarters.

“Captain...” You didn’t want to know what was at the end of that inquisitive tone of voice.

“Yes?” You replied.

“I know about your past, who you were...” You stopped dead in your tracks. Why he had the nerve to let on that he knew such things was beyond your comprehension, was this some sort of game?

“I’m sure you think you know... But it’s far from the truth. Whispers that surfaced in Tortuga are nothing more than whispers... A word of advice,” you turned to look at him. “Don’t listen to the word of madmen and look at what you see with your own eyes. Rumours will ruin you.” You turned on your heel and opened the door into your dimly lit escape.

Only five minutes into checking the books and reading through your accounts the door opened.

“What’s the matter Cillian?” You sighed in annoyance. 

“Uhh... There’s someone here to see you.” He looked anxious.

“Who?” You shot back.

“He didn’t give a name. He just said he had an appointment to see you.”

“Tell him to piss off, I have no such appointment with anyone.” Your voice seemed strained with annoyance. Cillian nodded. You were prepared to continue with the book keeping until the door opened again.

You rose to your feet this time.

“Captain he won’t leave, I made it clear he wasn’t wanted.”

“Oh for fuck sake. You couldn’t have made it that clear-“ You opened the door and there he stood, his coat swaying in the wind. He did something rather unexpected. He grinned. Not a wicked or fake grin, it was... Cocky. Attractive.

“Ahh, to what pleasure do I owe your visit, Captain?” You returned his newfound charm.

“The pleasure is mine, what a magnificent ship...” His hand flung the tail of his coat out the way and he placed a hand on his hip, near his cutlass.

“Yes, she is. I boarded this vessel with 5 men and took her from the Spanish.” You folded your arms across your chest. “But you’re not here to discuss that, are you? Look, I thought I saw your face on a painting in London, but I think I was wrong...” You were lying.

He considered you for a moment before turning his back, his hands now rested on the wooden guard rails of the ship. 

You considered his presence for a moment before you began to speak softly, “beautiful, isn’t it? Where men and women can come to this place and decide their own fate, yet they still have to pay taxes to a governor. There is no true freedom in the world, people are weak, and where there’s strength people seek to follow it, out of fear or ignorance... At least we’re not murdered for being simply human, we’re murdered for pissing off the wrong person, or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. But I’ll take my chances.” Considering this man pushed you up against a wall yesterday and crushed you hand, you didn’t know why you were divulging in the deep philosophies of freedom.

“Am I right to assume that you are from a place where freedom is but a dream, a hope that is unobtainable when you’re shacked by the chains of a King’s oppression?” His expression darkened as he narrowed his eyes.

“Well if I told you that you were correct, I would be revealing far too much than I am comfortable to divulge. So let’s say aloud that you’re incorrect. You share that same expression of betrayal that I wear every day, the reason why my crew cannot trust me entirely.”

His face changed, whether it softened or he simply regarded what you said and processed it, his persona definitely changed. Almost as if you read too much into the man that was shrouded in mystery.

“That is an interesting skill you possess there, but I will warn you that it is a dangerous one.” His tone of voice had changed too, it too became softer with his demeanour.

“Is that a threat?” You inquired.

“On the contrary, it’s friendly advice. When I first came to Nassau I learned quickly that it doesn’t matter how well you read someone, how well you know them even... their actions can be unpredictable, and when you’ve lost the ability to foresee someone’s actions, then they can be truly formidable.” 

“You seem to forget I’ve been managing my crew for 8 years now, I’m not exactly new to this game, just the location.” You swiftly reminded him. Flint smirked, that expression that you were quickly deciding you didn’t like.

“Tell me, why have you come from Tortuga? My guess is your charm and charisma didn’t brush off on certain brutish fiends who don’t share in the way you view the world.”

“I don’t know what I hate about you more Captain, your ability to read me, which I find unnerving, or your smug taunting.”

“You’ll learn to hate a lot more than that.” His voice became quiet and barely audible, this was becoming a most peculiar meeting.

Aye, that one I'm learning quickly. But this place will learn to hate me as much as Tortuga does in time... I have a way of getting under people's skin." It was your turn to wear the smug expression.

"You must have been quite the tyrant." His eyebrow raised a little with the hint of a sincere smile.

"Hardly, just in the wrong places at the right time. I'm not a tyrant if I'm not known by the villainous Captain Flint." You were trying not to build on this mans infinite ego but it was his reply that did shock you.

"I lied." He spoke firmly. "I know perfectly well who you are. 2 years ago we left for a prize, word drifted to us that she had already been seized , however I refused to believe it. I was rather surprised to find a burning ship and a rather large trail of destruction. When we returned to Nassau empty handed I soon found that it was a woman who seized the vessel with a crew of cutthroats. I simply put it down to misfortune hunting so far from the trade routes alongside Nassau. But you struck three months later closer to our shores. I might be forgiving when it suits me, but you cost a certain Charles Vane a lot... You gained my respect that day." Well if anything could make your head swell, it was most certainly this man speaking of you in a high regard. 

"I have a proposition." You piped up with a spur of the moment idea. "How about we have a... Competition of sorts. See who can score the most by the end of the year? Starting from now of course," because you knew he had already beaten you by this point because a lot of your time had been spent escaping Blackbeard and his crew, set out to ruin you and kill you.

"Sounds interesting, but it's hardly fair that I know these waters better than any man. Your out of your depth here. But... If you're willing to wager then I'm confident I'll win." He folded his arms over his chest and turned to face you. "What say you?"

"I say it's a deal." You extended your hand out towards him. He simply stared at it. "Oh come on, I thought you were a man of honour." He reluctantly extended his hand out and grasped yours. You shook his hand firmly and grinned wickedly at him.

"So what's our wager?" He inquired.

"Well, we'll have to see about that one, won't we?" You winked. You felt a strange sense of empowerment.

"Is that you trying to state that if I win, I actually receive nothing and if you win, you get everything in my cargo hold? I will warn you my men spend every penny within the first run ashore." That smug expression was back.

"Well, my crew will just have to make sure your ship never touches that jetty." You turned your back and walked from him, leaving him standing on the upper deck as you descended into your quarters. 

Days passed before you heard of a score worth salvaging. Morale was in high spirits as you addressed the crew, soon you were underway, sailing the seas at high speeds. You had sent someone to spy on the infamous Captain Flint, finding out that he was about to embark on a hunt for a French cargo ship, transporting fine jewellery, tobacco and sugars.

You saw her sails in the distance, blue with a white flag hoisted.

You men cheered as they closed up to their designated stations, the ship advanced quickly but you were so focused on the ship in front, you didn't see who was advancing from the rear. You fired chain shots at the cargo vessel, the hit landed and the excitement was fiercely electrifying. Until a blast landed in your ship. And it wasn't from the scarce weapons onboard the Golden Stag's victim. 

You were alongside the port side of the cargo ship, the Walrus pulled up alongside the starboard side. A dark look in its Captain's eyes.

The cargo ship took a battering and she surrendered quickly. Your crew boarded first, Flint's crew followed. 

"How did I know you would follow me?" He wasn't angry, he seemed oddly pleased.

"Ahh, shall we play by the pirate code, Flint? Captain to Captain."

"Well if we divide the spoils, neither of us is in the lead, if I kill you in a fight then I get everything. And just to warn you... I'm not prepared to share." There was a devil's glimmer in his eyes, it was fearsome and beautiful. He neared you, but your demeanour didn't waver; you remained regal, like a queen.

Flint's crew watched you closely. Some of them licking their ghastly lips. His quartermaster joined his side, as did yours.

"Or, your quartermaster can fight in your honour..." Daniel piped up, eyeing Mr Gates closely.

"Aye, that could work." Gates replied. You had no love for an interfering quartermaster. But when there were two in the mix giving each other ridiculous stares, fuelled by the manly urge to kill each other on their Captain's behalf you would say have at it!

But they had already made the decision for one another.

"Oh for fuck sake," you muttered under your breath. You gripped Daniel's arm. "Don't lose this."

"I wasn't planning to Captain." Daniel flashed you a cocky smile and winked. "I'll be alright."

You watched as Flint threw his cutlass to Gates, you supplied Daniel with yours.

Gates was slow, but his attacks were brutally heavy, Daniel was nimble and swift. They were completely opposite. Daniel drew blood from Gates' shoulder, he reeled back. Your eyes flickered to Flint, his hand stroked through his thick fiery beard as he studied Gates' footwork and hand movements as he began to shift his weight and challenge Daniel from a new stance. This threw the young and inexperienced fighter off, the bald quartermaster lunged forward and broke through Daniel's defence. You grimaced as the sound of the sword cut through the flesh of your friend. It was a deep wound, Daniel tried to fight back but he had lost all hope, he was cut down but moments after the fatal attack. He collapsed on the deck of the cargo ship, blood staining the oaken floor.

The look in Daniel's eyes was that of anguish. You kneeled down next to him, it pained you to see him drawing his last few breaths. "Ca-Captain I'm, so.... Sorry." He managed. Breathing in a sharp intake of air that wasn't filling his lungs. "P-Please." You knew what he meant...

"You fought bravely, dear. I'm sorry you lost, but be at peace." You stood, drew your pistol and allowed the last round shot bullet to ease Daniel's pain. Both crews fell silent.

You looked Flint in the eye, Daniel had died so that you could live, he knew the outcome to this situation, if it came to blows you knew Flint was too barbaric in a fight to be reckoned with, he had a strong build, he would most certainly overpower you very quickly.

"You won. Take your spoils and rejoice." You gave Gates the most disgusted and fierce look you could muster before boarding your own ship and sailing away. But not before you had the final word. You fired a chain shot right into the cargo hold of the French ship. You had previously held off on firing cannons five and six to avoid hitting it before, now you didn't care. As the body of your former quartermaster lay on the deck haunting you.

This is what happens when you mess with Flint and his crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * We do not say Lieutenant in the Royal Navy, we say Leftenant. I've never questioned why, I got told off once for accidentally saying Lieutenant. ¬_¬ British always have a way of being different I suppose.


	3. Aftermath of the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rather short chapter, the next one will be longer. Comments and Kudos' are appreciated greatly. Thank you for reading!

The last encounter hadn't put you off your challenge, no, instead it gave you a stronger resolve to win, it wouldn't bring Daniel back or even avenge him. But it could perhaps win back a small part of your crew's trust. There was a large feeling of uneasy atmosphere when you stepped upon the decks. The men were quiet, no shanty's were sung, no tune hummed through the sea wind air.

You hadn't told them about the challenge, but they still knew something was afoul.

Your crew gathered around when you stomped your foot on the quarterdeck, your heeled boots clanking eerily. "All attention on deck! First of the matters is the election of our new quartermaster, all in favour of Cillian, raise your hand." A vast majority raised their hand, "All those in favour of Joseph." A middle aged man who liked to bark orders at everyone to win your praise. A few hands raised, but not enough to secure him a majority vote.

"Looks like Cillian is my first mate!" Everyone cheered, they needed the morale to heal the scar that had torn the fabric of the ship. Cillian gave a weak smile, he was deeply disturbed by the loss of his best friend. But he accepted his role and stepped to your side.

"The second matter of business," you continued, "is that despite what has happened, there will be no retaliation on Flint's crew that will prove fatal to operation in Nassau. By all means, get pissed up and slug the bastards, but if you kill any member of his crew there will be nowhere you can hide. From Flint, or me for that matter. Those are your orders, gentlemen. Do not disappoint me. I feel your pain men, Daniel was a loyal and good man who sacrificed his life for mine, do not let his death be in vain, he wanted our legacy to continue. And that it shall!"

One foot stomped rhythmically. And then another, followed by another until your whole ship's company were banging the decks with their feet. It filled you with pride.

The return home was spent singing songs in Daniel's honour.

That first night ashore was tense. Flint was nowhere to be seen, you were relieved, you wanted to punch him more than anyone. Eleanor approached you with condolences and a stern face.

"I'm sorry, I should have told you Flint was headed for that French cargo ship. It's so unfortunate that you both came upon the same prize, I understand there's a code, but you both operate in my waters, Flint should know better than to damage trade here over his pride, but unfortunately there's little I can do in this situation. I understand some resentment towards Flint and his crew might be present with you and yours, but please keep them in line. He has already started a war with Captain Vane." She offered a weak smile that you didn't believe.

"Miss Guthrie I hold no ill will towards Flint, as surprising as that may sound and I have already told my crew, by all means, a drunken punch up is unavoidable but I will not stand for anything more. As for Daniel, Flint will compensate me for that loss, I will see to it, without bloodshed." She frowned at your comment.

"I do not believe where Captain Flint is concerned that you wish will be honoured but as long as you have assured me no bloodshed will stain my streets then I will believe you." You nodded and bid her farewell, venturing through the streets until the candlelight dwindled and the streets grew darker. The lack of light still reflected off his bald head, a bottle of rum in his hands and his face no doubt rosy from the intake.

"I'm sorry about your boy." His northern accent came from an alleyway. "It was the only way I could keep you alive you know... I couldn't stand to see Flint murder a woman." His eyelids looked heavy, he seemed lost in his spirit.

"I am not scared of Flint." You stated.

"I can tell, and that's what he doesn't like. If you don't fear the man, you're against him. This competition you both have, it needs to stop else your crew will surely die." He propped himself up against a wall and took another swig.

"Listen, Mr Gates, you may have been trying to help my crew, but instead of murdering a woman you murdered a boy! The difference between me and Flint is that I would die for my men, they follow me because they can rely on me, they fear me but it is controlled. It is a dependant fear. Flint leads by tyranny, his crew dare not challenge him. I appreciate him and I respect him, but in this situation you are my villain, not Flint. I knew what I was getting myself into when I set sail with the information I discovered, that he was on the hunt for that cargo. Daniel's death is now on my hands by your sword. And I am not comfortable with that on my conscience." You watched him wearily. He chuckled to himself and looked at his feet, the laughter making his eyes crease.

"You...." He hiccupped, "and Flint are a rare breed, you know that?" His voice was coarse and rough.

"What on earth do you mean?" You reeled back in disgust.

"Trust me, I've known plenty a pirate Captain in my sea days, but I've seen the look in the eyes of your crew, it doesn't matter how you justify the fear, your crew still see you a threat. You and Flint both spend time reasoning with who you are in your mind, justifying your actions. A clever Captain is one of the most dangerous of all. It's what makes you different from people like Vane. And a Captain with a conscience is a danger to himself.... Or herself." He went to place a hand on your shoulder but you pushed his gesture aside. He swayed a bit and hugged the wall to regain balance, but still pointed a finger at you accusingly.

"I cannot forget what you have done. And I cannot forgive you. Flint will compensate me for my loss." You walked off down the dark streets towards your ship.

"A word of warning. If you're against him, he will kill you, if you're an ally he will get you killed... Mark my words."

You chose to ignore him, and continued on your journey to your sanctuary. You heard him totter off laughing to himself and muttering about death. Strange fellow.


	4. A Hint of Chivalry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised a longer chapter. Comment & Kudos!  
> Again I can't help typos, iPad autocorrect is just awful. Fucking is not ducking! *Throws iPad out the window and runs after it crying and shouting 'Sorry'* I do try and edit them but when I proof read the hundredth time I always miss one.

_Was he the one causing pain_   
_With his careless dreaming?_   
_Been afraid, always afraid_   
_Of the things he's feeling_

_He could just be gone_   
_He would just sail on!_

**Unforgiven III - Metallica**

"Stand fast and prepare to board!" You had scored a worthy prize. The men were ready and awaiting the order to board the vessel. You looked through your spy glass and discovered no other pirates in sight, the Golden Stag came alongside and you shouted authoritatively to order to "Board!" The men used ropes to swing from one ship to another, others simply jumped from your ship to the next. Cillian lowered the plank and you walked across.

"Cut them down and take everything!" You barked at your men. They complied with great joy, killing and plundering the cargo holds.

Without much of a fight the vessel was taken and the goods now safely stored on your ship, you gave the order to sink her. Leaving barrels of gunpowder atop the quarterdeck. At a safe distance Sam your best shot aboard climbed the main mast and fired a round into the barrels. They explosion shook the waters and whatever was left of the deck became engulfed in flames, sinking fast.Your men let out a deafening cheer.

The spoils were counted and you registered them in your books. Cillian knocked on your cabin quietly. 

"Captain..." He said softly from behind the door.

"Yes Cillian?" He took his queue and entered the room.

"Captain," he closed the door behind him. "I'm aware of the challenge you and Flint have set each other and while I don't agree, I think you should take into consideration to risk you present the crew by endeavouring to play games with such a villain." You frowned.

"What I do is none of your business. If I wanted your council I would ask for it. This is motivation for the crew and attempting to form alliances here in Nassau. We are going to need help when Blackbeard enters these waters and with Flint in our side we will be untouchable. When we win the challenge my terms will be made clear." You dipped the quill you were using in a pot of ink and looked up through your furrowed eyebrows at him.

He opened his mouth as if he wanted to speak and then closed it again. 

Eventually he spoke. "When they find out, you're going to face mutiny after Daniel's death, hiding anything creates mistrust. You should know that, it's how you won this crew in the first place." If your quill were a dagger you would have thrown it at him. How dare he present such insubordination!

"You forget that without me not a man on this ship would be able to bring in the wealth that I do. That tavern bill and whore mongering you men do doesn't come cheap, you'll soon miss it when I'm not at the reigns, unless, my dear, you plan on challenging me to my captaincy. If I get wind that you are staging to overthrow me, well, let's just say if you don't want to be against me." You began to rise from your desk, eyes darkened. His expression flickered between anger and terror. You had seen it in a mans eyes enough to know when it was present. "I've killed, I've slaughtered and I've done things that would horrify even you Cillian, I don't take threats lightly."

"I am not challenging you. I'm appalled that you would threaten me in an instance based on the assumption that I am a threat to your throne, I am here to give you council as would any good quartermaster, I know your plotting and I hold no favour for it against such a tyrant. Two dictators at a impasse are the beginning to a long and bloody war, and those who sit at the top are not those who loose their lives, it's their pawns!" You reached for the dagger in the draw under your desk, your movements were slow, your breathing became heavier, a deep and devilish urge began to course through your veins, it was uncontrollable, the urge to silence him, his anger, to take it away. You had been so wrapped up in his enraged outburst that he hadn't noticed you reaching for a weapon to murder him in cold blood... It was the unforgivable darkness that overburdened you, a void that was forever consuming the last remnants of your soul.

The door burst open, Joseph, the new Bosun barged his way through. "Captain... the Navy!" Like a light being switched on, the darkness subsided. You were left back in reality, clutching a weapon you intended to use to kill a friend and shipmate.

"Fuck!" You plunged the knife into the table, Cillian's eyes widened, the realisation of what you were about to do settled uneasily in his stomach. You manoeuvred swiftly around the table and followed Joseph to the quarterdeck and left Cillian alone in your cabin with the looming thought of how close he came to losing his life.

The ship was vastly manned and hot on your trail. You were running for hours but she was easily going 9 knots, you were just managing 8. 

You watched through your spyglass, working out her capabilities and her manpower. All eyes were watching as HMS Neptune, a second rate Naval ship fully manned and fully armed with 90 guns against your half armoured 75 lying loaded on the gun deck. You were out manned, out gunned and almost out of time.

"She's gaining on us!" Shouted Chippy, an old and heavily scarred sailor among the crew.

"Yes, I can see that," you muttered under your breath, which hitched when you saw what was coming over the distant horizon. You thrust the spyglass to your right eye and focused. Her sails were at full mast, she was headed straight for you. The Walrus! You didn't know if you should curse or turn about starboard and head for the nearest island... Was Flint an ally or an enemy? You decided that either way, there was no escape, you would wait it out and hope for the best. You could sense the unease of your crew, it was burning a hole in the back of your skull from the dark expression of Cillian.

"Carry on forward. We both have a common enemy in this endeavour, for now the Walrus will not attack!" The men exchanged looks with one another.

"You heard our Captain!" Joseph shouted. "Stand by!" He ordered.

You came within a few hundred yards of the other Pirate ship and she began to turn. You felt anxious at that moment, was Flint preparing to rake the ship from bow to stern? You hadn't been aware you were holding your breath until the Walrus had fully about turned and sailed in the same direction as the Golden Stag. You let out a sigh. Flint stood on the decks, watching the Stag just as closely. It was a battle of trust. Neither of you fired. 

Now with the addition of 28 guns and 60 men with Flints banner flying, Neptune called off the hunt and fled. Both crews cheered at the sight. 

The Walrus came closer alongside your ship, "Permission to come aboard?" Flint called over, a few snickers could be heard aboard his crew. "Get back to work!" He barked at them, but half with a smile, which made your frown even deeper. "Well? It's a long journey back to Nassau!" He shouted across.

"And why do you request my company?" You hollered back.

"We have matters to discuss." He replied. "I'd I'd rather not shout them across from ship to ship." You massaged your temples trying to make sense of what was happening.

"Alright," you answered. "Lower the gangway!" Your men obeyed and lowered the plank down onto the Walrus.

Your men glowered at the captain as he came aboard, but Flint looked straight through them all, his eyes fixed on you. You had to admit, the attention was corroding your harsh persona. 

"And to what do I owe the pleasure of you coming to my rescue like a knight in shining armour and then paying me a visit after?" You tried to be cocky, but you were sure you were swooning.

"I spied the Neptune after taking a merchant ship yesterday, I also spotted this ship on the horizon taking a trading vessel, so we lied in anchorage waiting for the Navy to begin their pursuit. I knew they would try their chances at a battle, but it seems they thought better of it when they were outnumbered in all aspects. A simple 'Thank you' would suffice." He explained.

But why? You didn't want to ask him outright, you had a feeling he would ask a favour of you. You still felt indebted to him nonetheless."Thank you." You finally replied, as humble as you could seem.

"You're most welcome." You were aware you were gawping at him rather dumbfounded at his new approach to you. You feared his nicety was a front, that he needed something from you. Men like James Flint weren't to be undermined.

"I assume you would like a more quiet place to discuss aforementioned things?" You gestured to your quarters. He nodded.

"Indeed," he followed you and took a seat in the darkened cabin. "This is a moody place to keep to ones self, I like it." He studied your shelves and furniture. You poured him a drink of rum since you assumed this was no business venture. He swirled the cup of rum and drank before you had even poured your own. You wondered how this man had gone from a world of etiquette to being so damned rude.

"Thank you, for saving my crew." You said again, this time with more depth and meaning.

"It's not a problem, I'm not going to leave any pirate in the hands of the Navy. I'm not the monster you seem to think I am." He took another swig of rum, raising his cup in gesture of its emptiness.

"Go ahead," you watched as he seized the bottle and poured a generous helping of rum. You drank yours and snatched it up as it hit the table, pouring yourself another one and throwing it back as if it were water and you hadn't seen hydration for days. The devilish captain laughed.

"I see you have a hampering as much as the next man for good rum." Out of the forever watchful eyes of his men Flint seemed a little more refined, but still coarse and dark.

"Yes, it may be the death of me but lest I can forget some of the horrors I have seen and done for a few hours so I can get some sleep." Why was this man so easy to open up to? You cursed yourself to Davey Jones for such behaviour.

"I won't deny that you certainly have my interest, I believe we share a common desire for power that is incomprehensible to mortal men."

You snorted, "You see yourself a god?" He was insane. Most definitely. Tortured like you, yes, but beyond mend!

"I have no belief in God. I simply believe in the world we live in now, I have a desire to see it born anew." Had the rum addled his mind so quickly?

"We all wish for change Flint-"

"Call me James-" he cut in. And suddenly you forgot how to speak or even where you were going with the conversation.

"James..." It sounded strange to be so personal. "I wish to see England burn as much as the next man, but what you speak of is... It's not possible. Your talking of establishing a rival force, a war against the crown. We have not the number, the resources or the economy for such an endeavour." You had forgotten the cup, you took a swig of rum straight for the bottle and handed it to the man sitting opposite.

The two of you spent hours talking about the finer details of Flint's idealisms, intoxicated on more and more rum, you even cracked out the wine when the supply had dwindled down to your last ration.

"No... You-" you started to slur. Your eyelids heavy. "Listen, I'd be happy to... Indulge in these fantasies of yours," your brain began to muddle things. "But... If you become a King... Then, what's to stop you from abolishing piracy? You need laws to govern. Can't have us murdering bastards running around." Your face felt hot.

"Men would be so rich that they shall not want for murder or piracy." At last he had trumped your argument, either that or you were too enamoured to present a coherent argument. Your eyes and head felt heavy. The rocking of the ship sent you into a trance.

"I'd like that. To be rich. To be free," you muttered, more to yourself. "To forget what I've done..." You felt the black seep into the corners of your eyes, the world was growing dark. All you remembered before you let your unconsciousness overtake you was being picked up and taken over to the small sofa that was fixed to the deck of your ship. A warm hand brushed over your cheek and soft lips pressed to your forehead. The tingling sensation lingering long after he left until you fell asleep.


	5. Tender Torment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter to follow. It will eventually coincide with the series.   
> Again, any mistakes I do apologise, I type these whole chapters on an iPad, it's not the best tool for editing anything.   
> Also any terminology you don't understand or would like explained I'd be happy to.

The sun glared through the window, burning light into your eyelids. They fluttered open slowly, you groaned loudly. "Fuck, my head!" You proclaimed as you gripped your temples. The boat had ceased its rocking but the room still spun, it lay in anchor off the beach of Nassau.

You almost crawled up the steps to the deck above, you hadn't had that much to drink in quite some time. Not far from the Stag the Walrus was also in anchor, her decks almost empty as were yours.

"Morning Captain!" Joseph piped, with a large grin fixed to his face.

"Oh sod off, don't give me that look you!" You laughed at him. "Go on, take your leave and be off to the shore with you! There are enough men here to keep my ship safe. And tell my men to stop relaying ships affairs to whores. I'm not racing for my next prize..." You gave him a stern look but he nodded.

"I'll try but half of them are probably balls deep already... You're awfully chatty this morning. I take it we have Flint to thank for that mercy?" His grin became sly.

"No, we had a lot to drink but do not think me some common tart. We merely spoke of politics and mutual interests." His expression didn't change much, you scoffed and rolled your eyes to which he laughed.

"Alright, alright. I believe you. If you need any supplies just let me know. Cillian couldn't clamber off the ship quicker, he practically jumped off when we lowered the anchor. I think he's taken Daniel's death to heart more than anyone, those two were like brothers." Joseph seemed perplexed.

"Aye. Just give him some time." You patted him on the back.

Your crew lowered a small boat into the water, shouting the command 'check away' as it began its descent. Two of the crew rowed to the shore, smiles on their faces. Men were such simple and easily pleased creatures you thought to yourself. The Suns hot rays were beating down mercilessly on the streets, under the white cotton shirt and black vest style corset you were wearing sweat was beading in uncomfortable places. You heard them arguing before you saw them, a deep cockney female voice and a very well spoken Englishman.

"Oh fuck off Jack!" She spat.

"Darling, keep your voice down..." He said not too quietly himself. You rounded the corner to see him looking around frantically, he tried to offer his arm out to her but she snatched it back and stormed off, he made no attempt to follow her. As she came close to you she almost pushed past you, looking you up and down in disgust, muttering something under her breath.

You approached the man clad in Calico fabric clothing. "Keep your dog on a leash. I hear strays are put to death if they bite someone." He furrowed his eyebrows at you as you passed him, a new voice spoke, it was gruff and ragged.

"Then what the fuck are you doing straying so far from Flint's leash?" You spun on your heel, anger boiling in the pit of your stomach, without even thinking, your hand had found the hilt of your sword. Charles Vane stood next to his quartermaster, a half smirk and half frown. What could he have meant by that? Had rumors sprung forth in a matter of 24 hours? You cursed your crew to the depths of Davy Jones!

"And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" You had to admit, he'd caught you off guard, your usual way with words escaped you.

"I think you know what I mean. Seems you're ready to bite just as much as the next bitch." Jack gave a derivative snort beside him as his Captain fired insults at you.

"Funny, I hear Eleanor has her jaws tightly clenched around you balls. One day she'll rip them from you and you might just want to watch your back... I'd be careful, a woman with power is more dangerous than any man." He didn't quite look convinced, he just looked as if he wanted to silence you.

"Brains and a cunt doesn't mean you're a fighter." He spat, edging towards you. You drew your sword and pointed the blade in his direction.

"I didn't become a captain just for my brains and my cunt." He flashed a wild grin. It seems he accepted your challenge. Within the blink of an eye Vane had lunged at you, his sword drawn and he was mid strike, you barely had time to register what was happening, never mind parrying such a fast and strong assault. The clash of metal rang through the empty alleyway, he struck again and again, his power forced you back and onto the busy street. There was something primitive and bloodthirsty in his eyes, a horrible hunger for death. The crowd of people backed away into a circle, enticing onlookers in to see the fight. Vane swung quickly when he saw an opening, steel collided with flesh, the cold blade slashed through your chest, making a clean long cut through your torso. You let out a grunt, adrenaline stopped you from feeling the immediate affects of the wound. He too left an opening, you took it and left a nasty gash down his arm. He took heavier swings at you, forcing you into a corner, stuck between him and the crowd. You barely dodged in time as the tip of his sword cut your cheek. You put all your weight into parrying, causing his sword to go flying to the stone floor. He tackled you backwards. His fighting was dirty, one knee went for your gut, winding you and a hand clasped around your wrist as you went to attack, twisting and wrenching your sword from your grasp.

The crowd parted like the red seas as he pushed you back to the wall, a hand now gripping your throat and squeezing the life from you. You grasped for something... Anything... The world began to grow dark and you could find nothing to throw this savage from you. Finding a small ounce of strength you punched low... It really was the only option you had, lucky for you being a woman you had no moral code for punching a guy in the groin. He let go and you took the opportunity to headbutt Vane. Of course it did little to stop him in his anger. He lunged at you again, your head collided with a wall.

The cavalry arrived in the form of a gargantuan young Bosun with arms the size of your waist and one of your own crew, Cillian. They tore Vane from you, the large man restrained the feral Captain and Cillian put himself in front of you protectively.

"What the fuck is going on here?" Came Eleanor's shrill voice over the hoards of people. She quickly pushed her way through to study the damage, she didn't seem surprised when she saw Vane, she did however wear an expression of annoyance to see your presence.

"Is this going to be a regular occurrence with you being here Captain L/N?" She shot you a cold look and walked calmly over to Vane.

"No. He started it." You accused like a naughty child caught arguing with a sibling. You wiped your mouth and inspected the blood trail on your sleeve.

A strong hand wrapped around your arm and steadied you. "Is this always how you introduce yourself?" Flint mused As he appeared from nowhere.

"Apparently it's how I make friends," you retorted gruffly earning a laugh. He helped you inside the tavern, accompanied by Billy, Gates and Cillian.

You winced as the pain began to work it's way to the surface, Flint guided you to a table where you perched yourself uncomfortably.

"I think you should get this seen to," he stared down at the wound, making you shiver under his gaze. "It will get infected quickly."

"I'll have my surgeon onboard look at it, it's nothing." You tried to hide the look of anguish on your face. "It looks worse than it is." The back of your head was pounding, and not from the previous nights heavy drinking.

"Nonsense." Flint replied. "You... fetch me some salt from the kitchen, some hot water and any rags that look relatively clean." He pointed at Cillian. Your quartermaster looked to you for your input. You nodded to him and he swiftly left the room. "You have them trained well to obey your commands, I'm impressed."

"What can I say, I've never had a mutiny on my ship because they don't know how to follow anyone else." Talking took your mind of the sting. Cillian came back promptly with said things. He looked to you as he handed them to Flint, a hint of worry on his face.

"Uh, we can leave you alone if you want Captain..." He looked at the two of Flint's crew guarding the door who shot him a fierce look of anger and disappointment.

"You've all seen tits before, fucking hell. If you're that embarrassed then fine." You gestured for them to leave. Three of them did... Flint didn't follow, instead he closed the door behind them and locked it, laughing at the curses he heard on the other side. He motioned over to you swiftly, picking up a rag and dunking it in the hot water. You just watched him work as he wrung the cloth and dowsed it with a light sprinkle of salt.

"Well?" He raised an eyebrow at you as you sat dumbfounded on the table. He sighed. "I must be having an off day," he muttered as he moved closer. Finally you realised he wanted you to take off your vest and shirt. You complied, the shirt had begun to stick to the drying blood on your torso, you yanked it off and hissed. You felt bare even though your breasts were covered by your now bloodstained brassiere.

He placed his hand firmly on your shoulder, his other hand pressed lightly against the wound. It burned, not just from the heat of the soaked cloth. You grunted and grit your teeth. He worked in silence with a fierce concentration on his face that left you staring not so shyly, he cleaned the cut nicely, wiping up any fresh blood that emerged.

As he went to re soak the cloth he absentmindedly moved his hand to your thigh, you couldn't ignore the contact, it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end as tingles traveled up your spine. He brought the rag back to your chest, you tensed and his hand squeezed. You had to ask yourself if he had noticed at this point as your leg gave an involuntary twitch.

Binding the wound he wrapped the tourniquet around your back, pressing a fresh cloth to your chest. There was no space between you as he reached over your back to wrap the bandage, his warm breath caught your ear and this time your body arched with another shiver, he definitely noticed that. His face turned towards yours. His gaze was intense, his eyes scanned your face, darting between your eyes and your lips, as you blatantly fixed your eyes on his mouth. You were drawn to him like the tide to the moon. Sense got the better of you and you looked away.

"Thank you," you said quietly. A few days ago he was an enemy, there was no way you could be lured into such a false sense of security... But there was an unspoken trust you felt with him. You felt like there were so many similarities in circumstance that rendered you kindred souls, but he was entirely ruthless.

"It's... Nothing." He said as he backed away, squeezing another rag in water. You hadn't realised the back of your head was pouring until it felt itchy. "Hold still," he said noticing your discomfort, bringing the rag up to your head and holding it there he studied your features.

"Well I wouldn't have pictured this scenario a few days ago." You chuckled, trying to forget how close he was again. You were sure your chest was betraying you, you could hear your heart beating in your ears.

"No, you do have a certain charm I have to admit." His smile was genuine. How could such a fierce and seemingly devilish man be so gentle at times?

"And you're not at all what I expected." You winced when he removed his hand on your head. The pressure was soothing.

"Were you expecting someone a bit more monstrous?" His face dropped into an unreadable expression.

"Yes. I had heard tales of a tyrant Captain who had gone mad. But that's not who I see before me this instant." His demeanor softened once more. He handed you the compress. He moved on to wiping the blood from your cheek. His touch lingered long after he moved his hand. His fingers traced along your flesh,  thumb caressing the scar the cut would undoubtedly leave. You were drawn to his deep blue eyes once again.

"To tell you the truth, you're not what I expected either," he confided. "I feel like I know you from somewhere, like a soul who's trapped. A bit like my own..." He cupped your face in his hands, searching for an answer... You couldn't tell him, not yet... The halls and the uniforms, the images flooded back into your mind. Your face remained blank. All those memories were a lost part of you, a locked up past... This man had no right to be the one who held the key!

"You look like a man who's seen enough torture for a hundred lifetimes, I've had my own torments, pain I live with every single moment..." His lips ghosted over yours in a tender moment, almost as if he wanted to share your pain and give you his, in the moment his walls crumbled down he realised his mistake... He backed away from you, his expression changed, you could see him clenching his jaw, concentrating on anything but you... In a harsh moment of realisation you too adopted the same demeanor.

You hopped down off the table, muttered your 'thanks,' and unlocked the door. You glanced back over your shoulder before leaving, he remained still, staring into a void. You knew, getting close to this man would indeed cost you a great deal; the words of Mr Gates drunken outburst flooded your mind. 

_"If you're against him, he will kill you, if you're an ally he will get you killed!"_

 


	6. Paradise Lies in Waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos' are much appreciated, thank you to everyone who's reading!  
> I'd really like to hear your thoughts on the story. I know there is a lot of debate on how to perceive Flint in this series. He's fearless but I see him as someone with such a broad spectrum of emotions that you could literally write him in so many ways and stay true to his on screen presence.

The next few weeks neither you nor Flint gave more than a passing glance at one another, you focused on your hunt of large merchant vessels and you were sure he did the same. Eleanor quickly forgave your outburst with Vane as you hauled in a good profit for her, aforementioned pirate often gave you glares from afar, you guessed he was under agreement with Eleanor about not attacking you or your crew as a form of retaliation.

Cillian had also started to make amends with you, often throwing himself into his new role, he didn't hold much appreciation for your new Bosun, Joseph, the two would argue on everything, including new dining utensils for the ship. You had to admire their fierce upkeep at disagreeing, it looked exhausting.

"I told you, she's not going to be happy when she sees this..." You overheard them talking on the quarterdeck.

"See what?" They jumped when they heard you approach from nowhere.

"How the fuck do you do that?" Cillian squawked.

"My my, you two are awfully jumpy, what's going on?" You were more amused than annoyed.

"Uhh, seems someone paid us a visit last night..." Joseph began. "The watch didn't hear or see anyone..." You rolled your eyes.

"What's the point of a watch if nobody actually fucking watches anything? Give them a debrief..." You sighed, rubbing your temples. And? I can tell there's more..." You looked up at the two men.

"Well, they this behind..." Cillian handed a small book to you. It was deep red coloured, leather on the cover and adorned with innate gold writing read _: 'Paradise Lost - John Milton 1674. Book I - XII'_

"That's probably because they thought it was a visitor for me..." You shook your head. "Zach get over here!" You shouted at the ship's cook. He bounded over abruptly.

"Yes Captain?" His voice was deep and bellowing.

"You were on watch last night... I believe you had the middle watch, tell me, did anyone come onboard?"

"Yes. Captain Flint." He stated.

"That's not what you told us!" Joseph's voice raised a few octaves.

"You asked me if anyone sneaked on... I said no. He just walked on." He said in his defence. You patted Zach on the shoulder.

"Well that's the great mystery solved. Thank you Zach." You waved a hand to dismiss him.

"He waited for a little while and left that book here. I thought he was here to see you," he put too much emphasis on the word 'see' for your liking. "Why wasn't I s'pose to let him on?"

"It's fine if he comes onboard." You let Zach trotter off back to his post. "You two are idiots." You muttered at the pair still stood in front of you in a mixture of annoyance and confusion, you tucked the book under your arm and retreated to your quarters.

You opened the cover to see a message scrawled very beautifully inside.

**_If your wings are clipped and you have fallen, build a ladder to paradise and begin to climb._ **

**_[259]_ **

You flipped to the verse a few pages into the book:

_We shall be free; th' Almighty hath not built_

_Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:_

_Here we may reign secure, and in my choyce_

_To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:_

_Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav'n._

_But wherefore let we then our faithful friends,_

_Th' associates and copartners of our loss_

_Lye thus astonisht on th' oblivious Pool,_

_And call them not to share with us their part_

_In this unhappy Mansion, or once more_

_With rallied Arms to try what may be yet_

_Regaind in Heav'n, or what more lost in Hell?_

You smiled in fond memory of the conversation you two had that night about James' plans for Nassau, to see it rebuilt from the ashes of the hell it had become you didn't read too much into it then, the realisation of the depth of this passage, of the personal meaning of Paradise Lost held for Him. The book did speak to you on a profound level; you had been cast out of your former kingdom into exile, deemed a monster to civilisation.

You didn't sleep until you had read from cover to cover of the masterpiece, finally on the last page Flint had written:

**_Even angels can be made into demons. Embrace your black wings, for darkness is beautiful and compelling. Light will find you._ **

You placed the book down, you wasted no time, the day was dawning anew, the sun beginning to rise over the sea. You demanded one of the men fresh on watch lower a boat and take you to the Walrus. You felt rash and impulsive in that moment weak and empowered.

You climbed up the laddered ropes up the side of the ship and onto the deck; you were met with a few grunts and one or two jumpy crew members. One man in particular didn't stop staring at you, he was bald and heavily scarred, you glared back and he flashed you a grimace. You approached Billy swiftly.

"He hasn't come out." Billy eyed the door wearily. "He’s been in there all night drinking, he came back just after midnight. Mentioned something about a bet and how it wasn't worth his torment... I don't know what you intend to do..." 

"I’ll drag him out by his hair." You cut Billy off rolled up the sleeves in your new coat, bought by the spoils of your latest prize. You wore a long black coat with red rimmed sleeves and a deep red interior lining with a purple and gold trimmed collar, fixed with gold buttons, and a laced black undershirt with a deep red velvet vest, cotton black trousers and boots that were fixed with a golden buckle. Your golden pommel sword fixed loosely around your waist. You even made an effort to fix a purple strip of fabric around your forehead to keep the wind from lashing your hair against your face.

It was different, vastly different to your usual white cotton undershirt and black vest, tied back hair under your wide brim hat and cheap black fabric pants. In Tortuga you didn't have to worry about business spoils and representation, here in Nassau there was a more steady tradesman vibe that overplayed the vast pirate network hidden underneath.

You burst open the door, walking calmly over to the windows and throwing back the dark curtains that blocked the sunlight from entering. All you heard were harsh grunts of protest; you left the room momentarily and came back with a fresh bucket of sea water. 

"I'm giving you to the count of three..." He said nothing, his eyes just shut again and his head lolled.

"One." No response.

"Two..." He grunted a little.

"Three..." Still lifeless.

You dowsed him in the freezing cold water, he shot upright in anger.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouted, his face red from anger and freeze of the water.

"Doing what no one on this ship dares to do and dragging you out of this sorry state to deliver you back to your crew before a mutiny arises."

"What, by throwing water over me and letting in sunlight? There are plenty of other places I can seek refuge for my torment." His voice was callous and stern, but you had already won the battle. 

"Well if that's what you want to do then fine but don't let your men see you in such a sorry state of affairs. It won't bode well for you if you lock yourself away and neglect to compensate your crew for your behaviour. That's what loses us wars!"

"And what would you know of war? You command your men to steal and plunder; you've never seen the horrors of a war, what it does to a man."

"I would know war, I would know ruin, because I have seen a cannon blast a man to pieces, I have seen the deck stained with blood of my friends, good men! I have commanded a ship belonging to a fleet of far worse tyrants than any pirate ship against the fearless Spanish! So don't tell me about my ghosts! James McGraw..." You made sure to mutter the last part just loud enough for him to hear.

His face sunk into awe, and then into the realisation of what you had just called him. He stood from his chair, slowly, his fingers spread onto the table surface, adorned in fine jewellery, you tried to focus on them... You didn't mean to finally let slip the secret you had been hiding... That you knew who he was. This was a dangerous situation. His body posture had changed, to that of an animal, stalking its prey. 

"How do you know that name?" His voice was deep and quiet. You had never seen such a look in his eyes.

I was time to tell him the truth...

"I may have embellished the truth a little when we first met." His demeanour didn't change, his anger remained constant. "The painting I saw of you, it was adorned with new portraits of fast rising officers. I was a part of that ceremony; I was one of the officers at that ceremony freshly promoted..." 

"How is that even possible? Women can't become officers! You can't even join the Navy!" His voice began to rise into a shout. This was less threatening than his killer persona.

"No, no they can't. That's why for the longest time I pretended to be someone I'm not, I pretended to be a man so I could join the navy, but being at the bottom wasn't good enough for me, I was soon recognised and offered the King's commission which I took. You were at my reviewing ceremony, accompanying a Leftenant commander..." You were quiet for a second, you studied his expression very carefully, and a mix of anger turned to pain flashed across his features. 

"The softly spoken young man..." He muttered to himself. "This is some sort of trick?"

"Hardly, it's amazing what your lack of tits can achieve paired with a short haircut." He sat back down heavily, conflicted. You knew far too much... "I stayed that way for two more years, until one night it was discovered I was fraternising with another fellow officer of whom I had fallen in love with, they assumed we were both unholy in the eyes of God until I was forced to tell the truth..." Anger rose in the pit of your stomach until it made you feel sick. "Alexander was hanged for his alleged crime, he helped me escape on a merchant ship headed for the South of France before he was captured, all because he went back for a stupid family heirloom! There I crossed various trade routes and ended up in Tortuga, broken, alone and with nothing. When you have lost everything and you have nothing left to lose its amazing how dangerous you become." There was a fierce look of ache in the Captain's eyes.

He began to tell his tale. About Thomas and their idea to save Nassau, how he had literally given everything to fulfil the ideals of the man he'd loved. By the end of it he looked empty, like he had been hollowed out from the inside, presenting nothing but the shell of the former man he had been.

"I have never told anyone of this. Rumours of course had travelled about me and Thomas, but were dismissed in place of the alleged truth which was that I as having an affair with his wife and in his grief Thomas went mad. I saw no surprise on your face when I made mention of my affair with him..." His deep blue eyes search your own for an answer he already knew.

"I heard them. Rumours finished me, so I chose to ignore them; at the time my horror was known as Second Leftenant Hume, he was the one who told my Commander of the events he had seen when me and Alexander shared an intimate moment in a Tavern in what we assumed to be a safe meeting place. That bastard would do anything to gain rank! If I could get my hands around his neck..." You suddenly became overburdened with grief. James stood and rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. You buried your head in your hands trying to hide your display of weakness to him.

He took your hands and moved them from your eyes, making you exposed to his mercy. His hand cupped your cheek lightly and turned you to face him. You didn't know how to respond, at first you resisted but he moved closer to you, his movements distracted your attention, leaving you to face him. 

"I thought you would see me a danger knowing these truths, although I do not fear you, you have my silence." You moved your attention back to the window. "Now I understand... Why that book you sent to me meant so much. You see yourself the devil do you not?"

He let out a heavy sigh. "Yes. I myself the Devil, cast aside for wanting something so unobtainable, but my intention was to remind you that even though Eden is gone, paradise still awaits. But I see now we both share the Devil's plight. I knew I had seen your face before..." He put his head into his hands and looked down at the floor. 

"I'm sorry I kept it from you..." You whispered, placing a hand tentatively on his shoulder.

At that moment you were both so conflicted, so full of emotion that the bond that had formed between you both had strengthened.

"Anyone else would not see the light of day with this knowledge, yet I will not condemn you for it. If you held any ill will you would have corrupted my name already." He still refused to look at you. 

"Well it appears I've grown incredibly fond of you." You admitted.

"And I you." He replied, finally looking up from the floorboards. Right there, in that moment, you felt like a small part of your humanity was clawing its way back to the surface, you wondered if James felt the same.

You stood, feeling the urge to bring yourself back into reality, as you walked to reach for the door you felt a hand on your shoulder, he spun you around to face him, he was taller than you but in a split second his hand snaked around the back of your neck and into the locks of your hair as he pulled your face to his.

This was a man who felt every emotion so deeply it consumed him; anger, rage, love, passion. He was expressing a mixture of all of these in one instant as he kissed you deeply. Everything in your own mind felt like a hurricane, but in this moment, so brief and encapsulating you were in the calm, the eye of the storm. You kissed back with just as much pent up tension the two of you had built up over weeks. You knew that by allowing yourself to open up to James in such a way there would be no going back, he made you feel like the former part of yourself you had long left behind. You feared that you had done the same for him. The kiss deepened even more, when you broke away, panting heavily you gazed in his eyes, so much conflict in them, they mirrored your own.

He kissed you again, more tender than before.

A pound at the door rudely interrupted.

"Not now!" James shouted.

The knock sounded again. He let out a heavy sigh. 

“It’s fine.” You told him, he let his feet carry him to his door and open it to see a panicked looking Gates.

“That problem we talked about...” James opened the door wider to reveal you stood in the middle of the room.

“Oh.” Was all Gates said. “Ohhh, sorry Captain.”

You could picture the frown on Flint’s face even though you couldn’t see it. You just waved at the quartermaster. “I’ll leave you boys to it...” You walked towards the door; you offered James a reassuring smile and placed your hand lightly on his shoulder before escaping his quarters, intoxicated by the events of moments just passed.


	7. Calm before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Duty calls, but this stuff is fun to write when I get the chance. Next chapter should be up once I've edited it. I hope you enjoy the zesty-ness of this chapter.

Course winds ripped through the bay, you were staying at the Inn, surrounded by noises of whores and men of little honour or respect, your room was awfully cramped and dark, the only light came from a candle on the writing desk, which barely illuminated the parchment you had found in your last spoil. It didn't reveal much, a few trading routes that had been established to counter piracy, but the crown should have known better than to write things down, you assumed they were working on the basis that Pirates couldn't read... Idiots.

You threw the paper to one side and began to scrawl in neat and drawn out letters...

_I F/N L/N decree that I am willing to seek pardon from England and the King._

_I will journey to Boston, cease piracy and with it dismantle my crew. This would save your country much in trade. For such a bargain I hereby announce that I am willing to give you the location of one Black Beard and his crew, to be placed under the scrutiny of the sovereign._

_I will enclose this information should I receive a full pardon._

_Signed,_

You elegantly signed the parchment with your signature, and placed the letter on the side to seal in the morning. You sighed, stretched your arms out in front of you to ease the tension building in your upper shoulders and rose from your uncomfortable wooden chair to retreat to the bed.

You had begun to dose when a light wrap of knuckles clanked against the door. You chose to ignore it, if it was important they could come back in the morning or sound slightly more urgent. Sleep was much needed. Your mind drifted back to earlier events, Flint's lips on yours, the sweet smell of rum that intoxicated your mind and clouded your judgment. Whatever the outcome of developing feelings for such a man would only cause you trouble, but what was life without a little danger? 

Sleep soon drifted upon you and took you to it's deep mercy.

"You left me to die!" His voice was fierce, his eyes were wild and deranged, their dark pupils dilated and terrifying. You felt fright, for the first time in years you felt that feeling in the pit of your stomach, that sick twisting of your heart mixed with heavy breathing.

"I - I didn't leave you! You went back! You died because you went back for that fucking chest!" You screamed back at the voice. "Alex it wasn't my fault!"

"It was your fault, this is all your fault!"

"It's my fault because you're a man who gave into temptations? Because you sought out my truths and exploited them?!" Your tone deepened, it almost bellowed. You wanted to slay this man in front of you, the one blaming you for all his pain and anguish. You wanted to end it. This was the monster that time had turned you into, what being banished from your home had taken from you, your humanity and capability to love.

"The devil hath disguised himself as a woman and made pray to the weary Sailor! Looks like I'm not the only one, you moved up on the food chain!" The monstrous man's eyes turned a deep shade of green. "Trying to pray on Pirate Captains now, are Navy men not fierce enough for your evil anymore?" You heart felt like it was about to snap, the pain in your chest was immense. How could Alexander be so cruel? This man you gave your life to once and it cost you everything you had worked for.

The dream took a turn as he reached out to hit you, you cowered away from his hand, you closed your eyes anticipating his hand to make contact with your face but a hand lightly coiled around your wrist, you opened your eyes to see a more recent fixture in your life. Flint. Or rather James McGraw, he seemed far more gentle, the young face you remembered from the ceremony in the hall. His hair was fashioned into a ponytail that cascaded over his shoulders, his eyes were soft and welcoming, he was clean shaven and well presented. 

"I won't hurt you." He insisted, smiling lightly at you. He offered you his hand and suddenly you were back in the hall, the vast painted room in all its glory, the walls and high ceiling decorated with the most beautiful mural of artwork.

You caught sight of your reflection in a silver plate on the wall. Short hair which drew attention to your eyes, making them appear much larger. How nobody saw through those feminine eyes you had no idea... It was your uniform that can't you off guard. Blue coat with golden trims, a single golden ring on the hem of the sleeves, white cotton vest and trousers. Anger boiled, you hated this reflection. You hated this image and memory of your former appearance.

James leaned into your ear. "I know your secret," his lips brushed against your neck. This felt wrong yet... So damn right. You allowed yourself to close your eyes.

You didn't feel the sensation at first, the nerve endings took their time to react to the feeling of a sword being plunged into your back.

"Didn't you hear Mr Gates? If I don't get you killed, I will be the one to do it..." Your eyes flew open, the world felt as if it were spinning and drowning in icy waters. You caught your reflection once more. The present image of you and Flint were staring back. His expression was a snarl, his eyes looked into the reflection of your own. There was nothing there, no love, no kindness. Just a void of murderous hate, your own were much the same.

You awoke and bolted upright, a cold sweat running down your spine, your face felt hot, you were panting heavily trying to grasp onto reality.

"Must have been some dream..." His voice was low and haunting. Were you still in the nightmare? For a slight second you felt fear in the waking world. "I seem to recall you moaning my name..." There was some amusement in his voice, your eyes began to adjust to the darkness to see him sitting at the foot of the bed. 

"What the fuck are you doing in my room?" You insisted, wiping your eyes of the sticky sensation sleep caused.

"Thought you might want company during the storm, or perhaps I was here to seek your company, there's only so much a man can endure on a ship full of cutthroats." James insisted.

"Helps if you are one." You said in a bitter tone, still feeling on edge after such a morbid dream. "And it still doesn't really answer my question, but here's another one, how long have you been here?"

"Well the candle burned out about half an hour ago, so my guess is roughly an hour. You know... Your quite the heavy sleeper." He said, you heard a shuffle, he was taking his boots off?! 

"And you don't find that creepy?" You cast him an expression that he definitely wouldn't see but you assumed he heard the tone you were taking.

"Well you're not kicking me out, so you obviously don't mind as much as you insist..." He laughed to himself. You heard the rustle of fabric and sheets as he pulled them back.

"... You're quite forward aren't you?" You felt the mattress dip, heat radiated next to you.

"I can keep my hands to myself. Can you?" You chuckled at his notion, you remembered the dream, the feeling of his lips ghosting against your neck, heat began to pool in your stomach.

"Of course I can... Good night..." You turned over, but you were pulled back over and toned arms wrapped around your torso, a hand snaked into your hair as he pulled your face towards his, your heart rate escalated. There was a deep urgency in his kiss, his body pressed tightly against your own you could feel every muscle in his torso against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck and passionately complied. In a swift movement James had rolled on top of you, trailing kisses down your neck, you began to moan, spurring him on.

His lips wondered downwards, over your chest towards your breasts. He made little work of your brasserie and tossed it into the darkness. His mouth passed over your erect nipple, his tongue softly danced across your breast making you moan louder and squirm beneath him. His thumb moved the fabric of your knickers out of the way to expose your clitoris to him, moving in slow and soft circular motions enticing a very excited groan from you. Your hands ran through his thick auburn hair and your legs squeezed against his waist eagerly anticipating him. But he wasn't done eliciting sweet torture upon you. A single finger glided into your dampening opening, his hands skilfully played inside of you, building up the primal urges that you so needed from him. He took his finger away, slid off your pants and replaced his hand with with his mouth. His tongue breaches you, and you body tensed immensely at the deeper growing arousal, you back arched and pleasure radiates throughout your entire being.

The warmth and texture of his tongue sliding over your aroused vagina was too much to bear. You bit down on your own hand to stifle a scream building, but he picked up the pace of his tongue gliding over you, your hand laced through his hair to purchase a grasp on reality as he sent you hurling into a world of intoxication. 

Moving back up your body he made sure to pay close attention to the dips and curves of your body in a way you had never experienced before. This was a man who was passionate about a lot of things on many different levels, but this didn't just feel like meaningless sex. He wasn't exactly the caring sort of man a woman needed, but you were no mere woman. He kissed you again tenderly, positioning himself between your trembling legs.

He eased himself inside of your dripping entrance, filling every inch of your warm sheath. He grunted, and pulled out, building up a rhythm as he parted you again a little harder this time, earning a gasp. He pumped in and out of you, your hips bucked to meet his thrusts eagerly trying to claim every inch of his erection in the sanctuary of your accommodating warmth. You wrapped your legs around his waist and forced him onto his back without much effort, he complies without protest. As soon as you were on top you began moving up and down and throwing your hips into a circular motion so you could fit every inch of his well endowed cock into you. He met your movements with thrusts of his own, soon the tension in your groin began to build and build, you could feel the brink of ecstasy within your grasp until he pulled you off of his body, your legs wrapped around his waist for purchase as he laid you down again and flipped you over, pulling your lower body up into the air.

He claimed you from behind, thrusting in deep into your dripping hole. You moaned so loudly it reverberated off the walls, you didn't care anymore who could hear, you just wanted sweet release. His rhythm was fast and hard, forcing you down with his weight until you were lying flat on the bed as James' body began to tense. There was no way he was going to cum before you! With agility and a great deal of flexibility you released yourself from under him and flipped yourself around so he was on top once more, you forced your body upwards to gain a deeper angle, the force of his thrusts pounding into you and the friction against your clitoris was the trigger you needed, his movements to become erratic, the room began to spin in the darkness and the warmth parted from your stomach, leaving you with the most intense orgasm you had ever felt in your life, the contractions of your walls against his cock made him too feel the sensation of escape and he came into you.

Your body was hot, sweaty and tired. Slowly and reluctantly he pulled himself from you and collapsed next to you on the bed. For once, neither of you had any words to exchange, you simply revealed in the silence of each other, his arm fell over you and pulled you close.

You slept soundly after that, morning shined through the windows and the fierce Captain was still by your side. You watched him as he slept for a while, seeing how peaceful his features looked when he wasn't snarling or frowning. A single eye opened and looked in your direction. You wondered what his reaction would be to you now, would he be the same cold and callous man that sometimes expressed a different side to you, or would he build that wall up again he so eagerly wrapped down a few hours before?

A faint smile painted across his lips. "Morning." He offered, his voice groggy and coarse. He lightly grasped your face and motioned for you to tilt it downwards as he kissed your forehead. "I think you woke up all of Nassau last night." He laughed.

"Well if anybody has a complaint then it's your fault." He smirked and stretched out his body and yawned.

"I suppose we should get up..." He stated as he sat up. You found the opportunity to stare at the scars on his back now you could see him clearer. Your fingers traced one particularly long scar, you felt him shiver under your touch. 

"I don't want to get up. I came here to escape my responsibilities for at least a full twenty four hours. So far it's been Thirteen." You said as you watched the clock ticking away on the wall. It wasn't even eight in the morning. Any respectable Sailor would wake at the crack of noon.

"I have matters to attend to... It seems some of my crew can't be trusted." He said as he started to dress.

"I'm sure it can wait at least an hour..." You hinted. He hesitated for a moment, deciding weather he should stand up to put his trousers on or not...Much to your dismay he did stand and proceeded to hoist up the tight leather trousers. That wasn't helping your hunger at all. "Well if those get too tight, I'll loosen them for you." He laughed at your comment and continued fastening up his belt.

"Will you walk with me?" The offer took you back, the fact that he wanted your company after the nights passions had ended.

"Let me get dressed and freshen up then." You eased yourself it of the comfort of the soft bed and linen sheets over to the tap to fill a bucket of water to wash yourself with. You wrung out a cloth and ventured behind the French dresser for privacy as you washed down your skin. You didn't watch Flint as he moved over to the dresser, as he picked up the letter you had wrote the night before. He read it with a deep concentrating frown. You dressed in your new attire and peered around the corner. He had sat on the bed, the letter in his hand. Your stomach dropped like a ship cresting a hundred foot wave.

"To give up a pirate for a pardon?" He insisted. The way he out it made you feel shameful.

"Don't tell me you would to do the same Flint. You've done far worse to get where you are."

"Have you not done the same? You and I share more than just a kindred connection, at least I thought we did!" He gestured to the letter by holding in the air.

"In a matter of weeks Black Beard will be on these shores, when he and his crew find me they will kill me and nobody will have seen them coming. He knows I'm here, I have the Navy after my head too. I'm ensuring my survival, tell me would you not take any matter into your own hands if it meant your life over theirs?" He was stunned to silence for a moment. He simply stood up, placed the letter back on the table and walked slowly towards the door. Your mood lowered into disappointment and anger, you expected him to walk away from you, instead he opened the door and motioned for you to follow him. You nodded and joined his side. Before you both left the room he gave you a softer look. "I won't let that happen to you."

You both ventured out into the sunshine and barely two seconds out of the door people began to stare, the whores whispered and the Sailors snarled at an unflinching Flint, who couldn't give a shit what these men thought. You weren't some prize to be claimed. Granted he revealed in the fact that the only female pirate Captain on those shores was the one he was fucking and flaunting it would do no harm. But he swore to himself he would stop you from being assassinated. He didn't care for the reasons behind Black Beards lust to have your head, or the Navy's for that matter.

For the first time in ten years, Captain Flint had a reason to feel alive, to feel a little more like the shamed second Leftenant he left behind in London.


	8. Wheel of Fate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took my time on this chapter, I wasn't sure on which direction to take, but I hope this will suffice.  
> I feared that I made the reader too cocky, but I'm trying to show the humane side of tyrannical pirates.

Your crew knew, word had spread and rapidly at that. They weren't too pleased of the new royal couple in Nassau after what happened to to their former Quatermaster, Daniel. Joseph and Cillian were certainly behaving like princesses in a tantrum. They still acknowledged your orders and carried them out, but unfortunately they would grumble and complain at every opportunity. They were sick of Flint hanging around the ship, and growing ever restless in your short absences. 

"It's none of your business who I'm fucking. I don't have a problem when you might be catching diseases from all sorts and bringing them aboard!" You finally snapped at Cillian. You mentioned Flint for a second and he rolled his eyes. He soon changed his tone after you snapped. He made himself scarce and you retreated back into your quarters to fill of the remainder of your journal entries. The game was still on with James, and at last check, the scores were almost tied in ships plundered, but he had a slight lead on accumulated profit. You needed a big score to take the lead. Moral was at a high for the men had earned more in a few months than they had done in any whole year.

Hours ticked away and eventually sleep overtook your weary mind. 

They boarded in the middle of the night, nobody on the watch saw them climb the ropes up the side of the ship, nobody saw them under the black waves of the sea swim from the shoreline. The first you heard was a heavy thud on the deck as a fight broke out, it silenced quickly. The door to your quarters was blasted open. Your ears rang, smoke filled the room and they entered, swords drawn and pistols loaded. 

His head was in their hands, torn from his body. A look of calm on his face, he never saw it coming. Joseph... His golden hair stained red. You reached for your sword. Your body shut down. Emotions failed. It was like the world became some sort of automatic function... Nothing made sense, you felt like you were looking out of the eyes of someone else, like you were caged and this person who came forth was something else entirely. You cut one of the perpetrators down, followed by another and another, they flooded in the hold. You became feral, wild and enraged, you let out a scream as you plunged your sword into the gut of man who was no older than 15, he looked frightened, a cabin boy sent to do the deeds of sick men. He was merely a puppet, but at that moment it mattered not. You carried on until you couldn't swing your sword anymore, your arms began to tire, your mind was clouded. Joseph was dead and that meant so where a large number of your crew. At that moment the world fell apart for the second time in your life. At that precise interval in time a small part of you had given up hope that there was a light at the end of this bleak and blood stained tunnel...

"Marvellous. You are a devil in a woman's body after all." A tall man entered the blasted hole where the door used to be, stepping over bodies in the process. It took every ounce of strength in your being not to collapse onto the deck, but some unrelenting force kept you on your feet. "My my, this is unfortunate." He continued, your shoulders slumped but you carried on holding your sword, your eyes narrowed at this man. He had a familiar Essenes about him, he seemed too stylish to be any old Captain. "Captain L/N, it seems you've made a lot of enemies in Tortuga and Jamaica my dear. I'm here to settle a debt that cannot be paid in cargo. It seems Black Beard wants to kill you." The day you had been dreading was finally upon you. 

"Tell Blackbeard he can can come and fucking get me himself." You managed through heavy breathing.

"I thought you might be stubborn." He drew his sword. Two men rushed in, well built and battle scarred. A burlap sack was placed over your head. Several punches to your stomach and head sent you reeling backwards. The world faded to black.

You awoke in a cargo hold, your hands bound by rope and your feet chained. Many hours passed by before someone came down to check on you. You had not the strength nor the will to fight. You felt broken and empty. Your crew had suffered at the hands of these barbarians for an old grudge, if you allowed yourself to feel guilty or responsible it would drive you mad, so you chose instead to shut down. Hope was now a dying light slowly extinguished by the black cloud surrounding your heart.

The fiend booted you, "Oi!" He grunted. Thrusting a stale piece of bread under your nose. You gave him a dark look. 

"When I get out of these chains I'm going to fucking skin you," you blurted. He laughed at you, showing his blackened teeth.

"Good luck with that, in 2 days you'll be skinned." He walked back off up the steps to the gun deck.

Two days of drifting in and out of consciousness, finally you awoke when your chains were unlocked, two heavy set men dragged you up on to the quarterdeck. 

"Well done Kidd, you delivered on your promise. When I hand her to the Navy tomorrow you can collect your part of the reward." You overheard the conversation. You knew that voice. Blackbeard.

"The Navy?" Kidd's voice raised a few octaves in disbelief. "Pirates don't do deals with the Navy. What makes you so sure you won't be captured yourself?"

"Because someone really wants this bitches head on their mantle back in London enough to let me sail off into the sunset, fat and happy with a thirty thousand pound reward. She's worth more to me alive right now. Then she's England's problem and out of my fucking seas." You were thrown to the deck, knocking the air out of your lungs, your face collided with the weathered wood. "Ahh, I knew I'd see this face again" he knelt down and grabbed your face with one hand, crushing your jaw, the demon of a Captain turned your head to face him. He leered at you. "You have been a thorn in my side for too long L/N." He said in a venomously low tone. "I should be the one to see you hang from my main mast you fucking butcher. But this... at least compensations can be made for death of my crew." That automatic inhumane function they triggered in you arose to the surface.

"Money won't bring them back," you laughed bitterly and spat in his face, earning you a punch that most certainly did some damage t your jaw bone, your lip was split and pouring blood.

"You wretched woman, the men on this ship hate you so much even they wouldn't fuck you."

"Too bad, should we ask the ones residing in Davy Jones' locker, shall we?" The next punch sent you reeling into the darkness.

The next time you awoke you felt you were on the verge of death. Things were most certainly broken, cuts were infected and itching but your hands were bound too tight to satisfy the urge to scratch. You were no longer in a cargo hold, you were in a cell, an armed guard stood at his post adorned in his daily working rig. 

You laughed at the irony of the situation. With the Navy it began and ended only for your new chapter to end in the same fashion. Only with more death and bloodshed.

"Keep it down in there!" The guard shunted the metal bars with his gun.

"Tell me, is what they pay you worth the subjugation and oppression? The bread filled with maggots, the stew that makes you shit blood, the beatings when they let the cat out of the bag and beat you for having more meat on your plate? When was the last time you saw your family?" The guard looked perplexed. His eyes darted around for any sign of listening authority. He leaned in closer.

"4 months." He whispered. "My wife was with child when last I saw her, I would have a baby when I return... If I return." He looked sorrowful.

"False promises aren't they? Before they give chase to something else and dash any hopes you had." You felt anger bubble in your chest.

"How do you know this?" The sailor asked.

"We weren't always monsters..." You leaned your head back, taking yourself away to a time before your exile. "I had a life, a slightly false one but it was good. It was... Worthwhile." You couldn't find any other word befitting your former purpose. 

"It must be lonely, being a pirate, being deemed a devil." You chuckled softly.

"No my friend, even now, bound in chains I am more free than you could ever hope. I have known joy and true friendship..." The image of Joseph and Flint, both of them flashed through your mind, your crew... Cillian. Fond memories made a painful stab at your chest. "I think... I will sleep now. Thank you..." The guard looked confused.

"What for?" He asked.

"For treating me like a human. I hope you see your family soon..." He muttered a soft thanks as you went back to sleep.


	9. The Hunt Begins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on a role today firing out these chapters. Glad I've finally had a chance to get around to it! Not sure where I will finish this story, I'm enjoying myself writing this, it gives me a good level of freedom doing a post series original fanfiction.   
> Hope you enjoy the chapter, a bit more personal interaction on relationship development.   
> Rate and comment! <3

Blasts roared, cannons ripping gaping wounds through the wood, screams surrounding the air as men are torn from limb from the bludgeoning impact. The ship holding you prisoner came violently under attack by pirates, torn asunder from the gun deck and upwards... Nothing came through your cell, there you waited like a helpless sitting duck.

"Don't go up there..." You warned the Sailor guarding you, he was the same one as before, you must have slept a long time enough for a full rotation of the watch, anyone else you would have let them leave without warning to face their certain demise.

"I have to do something!" He replied in a frantic panic.

"You are to stay at your station and guard. If you want to see your newborn child that is!" He looked at you and then to the door, he stood by your cell firmly. "And don't go near the door either..." You added.

"Why not-" just as he spoke an explosion went off, ripping a hole in the bulk head and disintegrating the door entirely.

Anticipation was beating in your chest, was Blackbeard here to finish the job after all and claim the Navy ship as a prize?

You were surprised to see Cillian emerge through the smoke. He rushed over to the guard, a knife in his hand. "You'll let this man live, Cillian."

"Only if he unlocks this cell," he flashed a smile at you. You were relieved, he made it. He had survived Blackbeard's attack.

You embraced him as the guard unlocked the cell, wincing heavily as he squeezed. "Sorry!" He said, holding you at arms length to inspect you.

"I thought you were dead!" You hugged him again, not quite believing that this was happening. "I thought those bastards had gutted everyone!" It was hard to keep any composure, you were exhausted and tired.

"I slipped away with a few others when the attack happened through the gun deck. I heard the commotion and saw his ship. I'm not one to run Captain, I went to warn Flint, when we returned they had taken you." Your chest felt tight and heavy. So he was behind this aggressive assault.

"How did you find me?" You insisted.

"I'll tell you about that later, we need to leave!" Cillian grabbed your hand and placed your arm over his shoulder, he summoned the guard to follow, to which the guard did as he was told, taking your other arm and helped support you. It was carnage on the upper deck but Flint's crew had boarded, killing and butchering as they went through the ship, leaving only a compliment of men willing to abandon their post, which turned out were a good few in number.

When he saw your state his face filled with dread, Cillian handed you over to James. "Are you alright, are you hurt?" He gripped your shoulders tightly and you winced.

"Yes and yes." You chuckled and hissed as you realised how much pain you were in. Your body felt weak, you collapsed into him. You felt safe at last. "I'm so glad to see you." You mumbled into his chest.

"And I you, come, we need to get you looked at." He led you over to the wooden plank between both ships. "Careful," he said as he scooped you up in his arms, he took one last look at the Navy frigate, commanding his crew to "take everything, bring any survivors willing to abandon their post and sink the fucking ship!"

Once onboard the Walrus you let exhaustion take you. The days passed and Flint's crew helped you back to some form of strength. Mr Gates bought you food from the galley, Billy asked for your advice on ship's affairs when he didn't want to trouble Flint or he was too embarrassed to ask Gates, Cillian helped you get around, James read to you as often as he could, others told you jokes and sang shanties. You grew rather fond of everyone on the journey back to Nassau. Part of you even forgave Gates for his crime against Daniel.

The night you returned James thanked his crew for their hard work, they were paid what they were owed and happily the men went ashore. The haul from the Navy ship had been a good one. Cillian had tortured one of Kidd's men to extract information and it was there they learned of your whereabouts and the course that HMS Nottingham was headed with you. Flint had sailed like a madman, running the men to the brink of exhaustion just to catch up. They were more than happy with their share, the ship had a few gold bars stashed in the commanding officers quarters, most likely from dirty dealings with pirates. The crew that you had recruited was plenty to help rebuild the Stag, it didn't have a patch on your former crew, their loyalty to the Navy needed beating out of them.

"Thank you." You spoke softly as James entered the room, he picked up a book off the shelf and sat down next to you.

"You don't need to thank me," he said as he found the page he had gotten to last after you fell asleep the previous night.

"You didn't have to come to my rescue yet you risked everything for it... I can't ignore that."

"You would have done the same for me." He replied, staring down at the book about to read it. You placed a hand on his wrist.

"Yes, stupidly I would. I find myself in an unsettling predicament of emotion where I would risk my life and my Captaincy to save you. I feel like there's an unspoken trust here... I learned something, whilst I was in a drowsed state I overheard the guards talking about a large Ship that they had run into contact with a week before. James, your dreams for Nassau, they could be realised with the haul from this ship..." He furrowed his eyebrows at the pages.

"I can't chase a ship based in word of mouth. I'd need proof to chase something that large." His brow furrowed.

"The books we took from the ship, you keep Ship's journals right? If we could find some evidence or link between Nottingham and the Urca de Lima they spoke of... I could repay the debt I owe to you."

"The Urca?" He replied with a matter of urgency. "I've heard of this ship before. Spanish Galleon? How do you propose we fight such a beast as the Hulk?"

"Together." You stated flatly. "We rake the ship from bow to stern, lure her in under a false pretence and strike."

He considered you for a moment, his expression seemed adrift from his usual scowl, it was almost as if he was looking at you in an entirely different light. “I can see why you’re such a well renowned Pirate. If was you say is true... that might actually work.”

He stood with urgency and left the room for a moment, you wanted to follow but you were still weak from fatigue and broken bones. He returned moments later with the log book from your score.

Indeed, the Nottingham had run into deals with Merchant vessels and a Spanish Galleon Flagship, its curse unknown. The last entry for the deal was with a small Merchant Vessel under the command of Captain Parrish, the trade was a small amount of gold in exchange for provisions and one ledger with a schedule for the Urca’s next supply meet with the Merchants and Nottingham.

“Take a look at this,” fierce concentration overcame the Captain’s face, there was almost an heir of excitement about him, it was amusing for you to watch.

You peered at the writing, taking in all the information you could. “If the Nottingham and Urca had dealings with this Merchant Vessel, this means if we find the Merchant Ship, we could take that ledger and pose as them under the guise of a provisions trade... James this is fantastic!”

“Only there’s one problem, our ships hardly look like merchant vessels... I propose we hoist Spanish sails, that should lure them into thinking its friendly forces for reinforcement... perhaps stage an attack to get up close...” He began to stroke his fiery beard as he pensively thought of a plan. It was fantastic to watch such a man spring to life with a plan of attack. He was born to lead, a tactical mind that knew no bounds, cunning and beautiful.

“The only thing we need to be cautious of after the attack has succeeded is boarding the damn thing, have you ever fought a pissed off Spanish man? One is fucking crazy but a fully manned Galleon travelling with such a large amount, there will be no prisoners.”

“I have to agree, and yes I’ve fought plenty of pissed off Spanish Sailors, a fair few of my scars are from such encounters...” You remembered the scar along his back the morning you first had sex, it made you shiver with lust. “We need to make haste on pursuing this Merchant Vessel with the ledger. Are you well enough to man your crew and get the fresh mean into shape to follow your orders?”

You weighed out your options. You would need to recruit more sturdy and loyal pirated to help break in the Navy’s lapdogs you had recruited, you figured their desires were the same as any man now they had been granted a level of freedom, to kill and fuck as they please.

“It may take me a few weeks, I’ll focus my crew on our previous objective of scoring as much as we can. That should keep a few noses off our scent. I trust Cillian with this information; do you trust your quartermaster?” You felt you had to ask. You had seen the way Mr Gates was willing to risk his life for his Captain, there was no doubt this man was incredibly loyal.

“Yes I trust him with my life,” James insisted. “We cannot let anyone know outside our most trusted, if word of this gets out then every man and his dog will be after the Galleon.” You nodded in agreement. James poured you a glass of rum; he could see your injuries were starting to weigh down on you. “We’ll talk more about this in the morning,” he soothed.

He carried on reading to you until you fell asleep.

That night had decided a very dangerous path of fate for you both... The hunt for the Urca was on.


	10. Beauty is the Beast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hatred is what drives determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Waaa, I'm so sorry I haven't updated in a while. Been busy with no freakin' wifi for extended periods of time. But I still managed to weigh off another chapter.  
> I have three weeks off of work so I hope to finish it before I go on my travels for a while.  
> Thank you all sosososososo much for sticking with me. This story is not abandoned! I promise you.

_One man's fun is another's hell_  
_These times are sent to try men's souls_  
_But something's wrong with all you see_  
_You, you'll take it on all yourself_  
_Remember, misery loves company_

My Friend of Misery - Metallica

 

It had been months, tracking the merchant vessel under Captain Parrish, waiting for it to return in a trade route carting sugars and tobacco, but finally she had been spotted. Problems had arisen on your ship, your crew began to question your leadership, rumours began to surface that your involvement with Flint was clouding your judgement, that you had lost interest in seeking a fortune. They didn't know what you were doing for their sake, they were just complacent to finally be sailing from the shores of Nassau, disgruntled at the ship in company.

"When I give the orders you are to raise the red!"

The men looked at you as if you were crazy. The red flag was only to be used as a sign that no mercy would be shown. That wasn't the plan! Your crew still needed to broken in since half of them had been slaughtered that night Captain Kidd invaded. None of them had killed in your name yet. This was a test... A test if loyalty now. The red flag was prepared with caution, tied to the ropes ready for hoisting.

The ship was close. Just a few hundred yards more to go and you prepared to bark the orders at your men to raise the signal; just behind your ship the crew of the Walrus were also closing in.

"Slow her down!" The men obeyed but it was unexpected, you were letting Flint overtake, the men did not know of your plan, these men didn’t know how to throw caution to the wind, too eager to please officers and admiralty of the Royal Navy, not a bloodthirsty pirate and a woman at that. Eyes darted everywhere exchanging glances and overall look of perplexed individuals wondered as to why you would let Flint beat you to the chase. Cillian knew, his face remained composed; the men also looked to him and his lack of emotions stood beside you as your remained poised and regal on the bridge.

"Raise the red!" You shouted, in a matter of seconds the flag was raised. The Walrus raced past, neither red nor black banner flying. Mutters from the men on deck could be heard from the crew that had been with you a lot longer; the Navy deserters remained silent. If that confused your intentions, your next order would surely cause outrage, but you commanded it nonetheless. "Rig the sails and weigh anchor!" The men looked at you for a moment. Blinking. Silent. "I said do it!" You barked. They looked between one another and then scurried to the task, the men climbed up the rigging like monkeys, knives in their teeth. Within minutes the sails were being stowed and tied to the masts, the capstan was turned to lower the anchor; the Stag eventually came to a halt. You took the spyglass from your pocket, snapped it open and adjusted accordingly. James' crew boarded quickly and effortlessly. Cillian was beside you, watching the ordeal. Since you had told him of your intentions with the Urca he seemed relatively chipper, obeying and reinforcing your commands, he stopped questioning your motives and helped you towards your recovery. Now almost fully mended you threw everything into the effort to hunt down missing pieces of the puzzle.

"Just out of curiosity, why the red if we had no intentions of intervening."

"Because if the men of that merchant vessel know they have no mercy here, they are less likely to cause an uproar against Flint. We need this to run smoothly." He nodded at your reasoning. "Also I wanted to see how the crew would react to the possibility of having to kill all those onboard... They’re a little tainted for my liking." He smirked at you.

"You have your ways to change that." He added. "Break them in hard or not at all."

"We'll get our chance. I'm not just here to be a sitting duck you know..." You winked at him, he laughed and went down to bark at the crew. You placed the spyglass to your eye once more and watched movements on deck. Not much happened for a while until you heard a blast, shouting and gunfire. After that the air was silent bar the sound of the sea doing a lulling dance in all directions.

“Captain, why are we letting the Walrus beat us to the prize?” One of the newer sailors piped up. You frowned deeply at his insubordination.

“Did you ask questions on your Naval officers aboard like this? Don’t question my authority here, boy. You won’t like the outcome.” His expression seemed agitated.

“No Maam...” He just crossed you in unimaginable ways; you didn’t think his intentions may have been harmless. This was the perfect scenario.

“Maam?!” You bellowed. “Who the fuck do you think you’re calling Maam? Do I look like the wife of a Merchant? You address me as Captain...” You drew your sword; all eyes were on the commotion.

“If you cannot address me as Captain, I cannot expect you to kill in my name. Therefore, young man, I have no use for you.” Your face was twisted into a deep snarl. A few hands twitched next to their knives and swords, but you eyed your whole crew, they shrank.

“I am the law on this ship, my word is law, if you cannot follow the law, you will be tried and found unfit for service upon this vessel, depending on the nature of your crime, some of you will fucking die by my law. Is that understood? If you have quarrel with me then speak now, this is your one and only chance, cross me at your own peril!” With that you used your example to its full, your sword plunged into the young man’s arm, twisting the blade as he let out a blood curdling scream, his hands gripped your coat tightly as he gasped for air, spluttering blood and gurgling as crimson life flooded from his arm your lip curled up in disgust. He fell to the deck, writhing in agony, his arm flailing uselessly, the muscles and tendons torn.

The message had been delivered. The twitching hands found ropes to busy themselves, distract their owners from starting an uprising.

“Do as I say.” You said darkly. Cillian watched you, you could tell it didn't sit well with him, but he had no other option, he was just enthusiastic to the Urca's hunt as you and Flint. “You there!” You barked to another new face, “Clean this up.” Gesturing to the gravely injured man at your feet now soaking the deck with blood.

“Yes Captain!” The man said without much hesitation. He climbed below deck to return moments later with a hammock and rags to clean up the stains. The medic shot you a cold glare which you returned as he dragged the man away in the hammock.

An hour went by, nothing was happening. You paced the quarterdeck eagerly. What was taking so long? This was a simple mission: get the damn schedule.

“If you pace these decks any longer you’ll wear down the grain.” Cillian tried to lighten your mood. You sat on a wooden crate and let out a long sigh.

“This is what happens when you leave a man to do these sorts of operations. I assume something has gone awry, or the Parrish isn't talking... They need to _make_ the bastard talk.” You squeezed your temples tightly, trying to stop the headache from surfacing, you felt a dull ache behind your eyes.

“You seem awfully content on violence and destruction today.” Cillian’s eyes scanned the crew, he kept his voice low. Out of the corner of your vision you had noticed the obvious signs of ageing, he was no older than his mid twenties but with his eyes sinking under grey shadows, hollowed cheekbones and the thick black stubble he looked like he was approaching forty these last few months.

“Is something bothering you?” You enquired, out of pure interest. You admitted to yourself it was party concern. Cillian had proven to be an excellent quartermaster, he knew what was to be done for the greater god even though you knew he sometimes despised your actions, extending to despising you often enough, but he respected you maybe even deeply feared you, not as a Captain. Not as a woman of power. But of a dark and tormented mind that violently flittered between emotions, you were unpredictable to the point of danger.

But that danger, the aggression, the rage and the burning hatred kept you alive. It kept you whole, like a complicated puzzle, the many pieces fitted together to make a torn and bitter woman who had been wronged. Had everything taken from her in an instant and dismissed, simply for being human.

“Nothing Captain. I have a lot riding on this venture, as do we all. Secrecy isn't my strong suit.” He admitted.

“But you will keep it nonetheless, even if you become hollow. You’re loyal Cillian. I can ask no more.” He gave you a weak smile and continued looking out into the horizon to the North.  

“Shit!” Cillian grunted, you followed his line of sight.

Finally one of your men shouted. “Sails to the North!” You whipped out the spyglass at speed and looking to the sails. The Scarborough. Your stomach twisted in knots, your chest felt heavy and you wanted to let everything in the hold loose on that ship.

“Cut us loose!” You shouted to your men.

Finally, movement. The Walrus began signalling the Stag. Your crew lowered the red flag and began raising the anchor, the process was long but the crew managed it in good speed, they were all accomplished sailors that much was clear.

You paced the decks. “Hume you fucking bastard.” You spat under your breath. The Captain of the Scarborough was hot on the trail of the two most wants ships this side of the Atlantic.

“Captain, you’re doing it again...” Cillian tried to make light of the situation, but this... He had no idea on the torment flickering through your mind. The rage burning inside your veins. This was your chance to seize the Scarborough, to kill Hume, to enact revenge. “Something tells me it’s to do with that ship... You look haunted.” You cursed under your breath. Cillian was too smart for his own good.

“It’s nothing.” You lied.

“You only react this was when you’re at conflict. The solution here is easy, flee. Yet you want to stand and fight... A personal vendetta?” Your eyes went wide, your head snapped round at lightning speed. What on earth could he have meant? Simply that was too perceptive, perhaps a trace of something lingered in his voice. Your reaction only confirmed his suspicion.

“I warn you Cillian. Don’t pry.” He looked as though he wanted to interject; he opened his mouth but closed it again and removed himself from your presence.

Eventually the Scarborough stopped chasing the waves of two Pirate ships and diverted to a different route. Your men let out a collective sigh but your mood only darkened. The opportunity was gone.

It wasn't long until home came into view, the ship came alongside in the port. Your mind wasn't on the task you had embarked upon; months of hunting a schedule, months of deliberately and painfully careful planning. Your mind had drifted back, all those years to a previous life, the life of a woman who had lied her way through the ranks of the Navy but fell weakness to a man’s advances, to his charm and charisma. You balled your fists and slammed them onto your desk; the pain throbbed but did nothing to ease the inner turmoil. Sinking back into your chair you let the anger seep into every crevice of your mind, the deep and dark corners of your memories that hadn't been touched in years, drowned out by rum and murder.

How naive that woman seemed now. How curious she was to the world, how well she thought she knew all. She knew absolutely nothing. You needed to forget that part of you ever existed... Need to drown her out, drown out the burning image of Alexander.

You reached for the draw, the bottle of rum that sat half empty. Picking it up you popped the cork unceremoniously and began to swig from the bottle in large quantities.

The door burst open, in flooded two figures that had become very familiar as of recent.

“Give me good news or get out...” You offered them as Flint slammed the door behind him, he glanced at your hand; the bottle that remained paled fingers that gripped it for dear life, he walked over to you silently, his face looking as gloomy as yours. He snatched up a tankard off the side and shoved it under your nose.

You both exchanged a look of grief, you proceeded to pour a generous amount of rum in the cup and he wordlessly drank every last remnant.

“Fuck.” You spat under your breath. You didn't need to ask, the Captain and Quartermaster stood in front of you with angry looking faces spoke louder than words. The schedule wasn't there.

“That fucking bastard!” Flint spat. His tone echoed your earlier outburst when the Scarborough came into view.

Gates piped up, “you two are unbelievable,” he shook his head.

“You said you’d taken care of it!” Flint spat at him. Looking between the two you sensed there was a crucial bit of information you had missed in their sombre mood that didn't have to do with the schedule.

“Captain L/N, approximately how long ago did you secure your crew to leave?” Gates inquired. You cocked an eyebrow at his question.

“About an hour ago... why?”

“Shit.” The rotund quartermaster breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He’ll be on them like a swarm of fucking rats on shit.” His northern accent remained drawled out calmly but you could tell he was trying to remain diplomatic. “We have an agitator onboard.” This was the tip of the scales.

"Who?" But you had a feeling you knew the answer to that one. A certain crew member had been getting rather large for hits boots as of late. Your last visit to the Walrus, he spotted you on deck from his position on watch, he leered at you and then gave you a once over, smirking and licking his lips. You stuck your middle finger up at him and proceeded to Flint's quarters.

"Singleton." Flint finally spoke a word since entering the room, he continued staring off into the corner stroking his fiery red facial hair.  

“Well... Just fucking stage an accident, challenge him, shoot him, do something!” You temper flared.

Gates looked between his Captain and you.

“I won’t question how you run things on here, but if we kill Singleton without probable cause that will most certainly cause a mutiny.”

“You’re already facing one!” You shot back at him, slamming your already bruised hand on the table. 

“And I suppose if we kill off half our crew that makes things easier...” His sarcastic tone began to irk you.

“More shares of the gold.” You snarled in a very unladylike fashion.

Flint remained silent in your exchange of words with his second in command.

“For heaven’s sake...” Gates muttered under his breath. “He’s too calm,” he gestured to pensive man sat in front of your desk staring off into space and then gestured to you, “And you’re angrier about this than he is! I'm not sure who I should be more worried about.” His voice trailed off as if a through just struck. “Look I can assure some things, but you need to rein some of your crew in if they aren't too pissed to vote. _Before_ Singleton gets to them, no doubt he’ll revel in turning your crew against Flint and that means by extension, you! You could both be facing a mutiny by the end of the day...” That certainly cut through your anger, instead unease settled in its place.

“I’ll gather as much of my finances as I can muster.” You uttered in a grim voice.

“I know neither of trust your men with the information of the Urca, but we don’t have any leads to go on right now so neither will any other prick and his dog in this place.” You had to admit, he was right. “You shouldn't need to buy back votes from your own crew, but others on the island need convincing, and that’s exactly what I plan to do.” He gave Flint an annoyed expression.

“God help us if we see this day through.” He muttered and took his leave.

You sank further into your chair. “What do you plan on doing?” You voice softened, you understood his inner anger more than anyone.

“I'm going to see Richard Guthrie, he can perhaps help me to recreate the page, he has contacts in places I couldn't hope to reach in time.” You considered him for a moment.

“Desperate times to have to go to such a man for the schedule. Are you certain Singleton hasn't heard whispers when we've been talking? He’s such a slimy bastard...” Flint gave you a grin; it looked misplaced in his stewing rage.

“I had considered it. Thievery is punishable by death.” The look in his eyes was devilish, making a familiar heat burn in your stomach.

“You beautifully cunning man,” you rose from your seat, motioning effortlessly around the table. He looked so powerful and so vulnerable, you had never known a _man_ so at war with himself, you only knew the war that raged in your own mind so well. “I’ll win my crew over, or I’ll chop _all_ their fucking arms off if I have to.” You growled.

“Do I need to ask?” He smirked.

“No, just fools can’t follow the rules it seems. If they fear you in the right way then you have their respect. Make them fear you now more than ever.” His gaze met yours, he stood from his lax position in your wooden ornate chair, his body pressing so close to yours, it was hard not to be consumed by the intoxicating smell of rum and sweat from the days fight, it wasn't an unpleasant smell, it made him more rugged and manly.

His hand found your cheek so fondly, his thumb adorned in silver jewels caressed your face softly.

“We’ll see this through,” he assured you. He knew that there was a panic in your mind that you didn't let show. “It must have been hard... Seeing the Scarborough today. I – I know how much you must have wanted to turn around and pursue Hume. I wouldn't have blamed you if you did, I would have helped.” Your breath hitched in your throat... The thought of him helping you exact revenge on the man who sold you out, who ruined your life... “After all, I did the same.”

You recalled James telling you once of how he had south after a merchant ship Maria Aleyne, and slain Alfred Hamilton...Eyeing the man in front of you, the liberty you had found in Nassau, the emotions you had shared on such a profound level with James... Perhaps you should have thanked that bastard Hume for his greed and jealousy.  

"It was so difficult not to, I will get my chance to slaughter that man, I'll make it slow and very fucking painful for all these years of misery." You wished that your face hadn't contorted into such a pitiful expression, you could see that James' changed to mirror your own but you couldn't control it, you couldn't fight it. You were tired and beaten down from the day's events. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**Flint's POV**

Only once before had James shared such a profound passion with someone, and that passion had led to him being discharged of service in the Royal Navy and his name tainted, his left to rot in some Sanitarium for his 'mental affliction' by his own father. Thomas Hamilton had died, probably tortured in such a vile place. This new whirlwind of emotions and grief to be shared with someone was tiring and comforting. He didn't believe in shit like soul mates, but he was certain that this may be as close to the metaphor as one gets. The woman stood in front of him, displaying such power yet being so vulnerable... He felt so open to you like a bleak canvas or open book with scruffy handwriting, somehow you understood the meaning of each word, read perfectly and beautifully as though you needed not read it but feel it. 

You were a weakness in his blood, an infection that made him susceptible to storms, pleading ignorance to the dark clouds looming in the distance. 

But honestly, Flint's life felt like one long storm, your raging seas only clashed with his. But damn it, he would be swept along anyway. He had never had such a better understanding of someone, of their pain and sorrow, and shared it adjacent to yours. Both had lived much the same life, and continued to do so, but now in some form of partnership... Whatever this was. Flint wasn't sure, but he knew the impact you had over him, if something were to happen his frayed ends of sanity would unravel completely. 

Caressing your cheek he couldn't help the urge, the need boiling in him, the want to erase your pain. His lips ghosted over yours softly, his strong arm wrapped around your torso and puled you to him. The smell of elderberry perfume and rum, mixed with a feminine trace of sweat, he could drown in your scent, let the waves of your body wash over him and fill him with a deep calm. The pent up anger, the frustration of the day, the _need_ to drown taking over. The day was still young, his appointments could wait... But he was losing votes by the minute. He growled as he felt torn, perhaps just a quick fuck could abate his building need to ravish you on the table. You broke away from him, leaving him wanting you even more. He tried to claim your mouth again, but you placed slender fingers to his lips. 

"We have plenty of time to do this, right now you need to fix this mess your crew have dredged up." Like clockwork, you could read his mind. 

"You know how to make me suffer," he breathed, feeling drunk from the weight of the day crashing down on him. He placed one last chaste kiss on your lips before departing with you in tow, ready to go separate ways to ensure he stayed as Captain. 

Something unsettling began to worm its way into his mind, a storm was coming. One with swords and canons. Civilisation was coming...

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment and Kudos. Sorry if the chapter was a bit shorter and darker than usual.


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